
Book . U'ni 



copyKioiir Di 



OUR EARLY PRESIDENTS 
THEIR WIVES AND CHILDR 



EN 



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FROM WASHINGTON TO JAC 



KSON 



MRS. HARRIET TAYLOR UPTON 



: 8 8.1 I'fll,, 



ILLU STKAT F.n 




D LOTHROP COMPANY 

WAS„,.C.TO. STKEET OPPOSITE BROMP.H.. 



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COI'YRIC.HT, 1890, 
IIY 

D. LoiHKor Company. 



vicK & Smith, UnsTos, U.S.A. 



PREFACE. 

The personal history of noted ineu and women is ahvaj's interesting ; the 
family traits of " great folks," their manner of life, their surroundings, their 
homes and their occupations, always emphasize in the public mind the characters 
or achievements that have made famous the family head. As Americans we are 
always interested in the early life of the Republic and in the family histories of the 
men who helped to found the Republic and start a nation on the high road to 
greatness. The seven presidents, whose families the author Jias in this volume at 
tempted to photograph, are known as the " historic presidents," and were those 
concerned in the early making of the .'American Republic. In the hope that in 
their home life the gentle dignity and the refined simplicity, the unconventional 
manners and the marked unostentation that were the predominant features of this 
home life, the author trusts that the young and better environed Americans of to- 
day may find much to commend and much to emulate as a legacy of the "days of 
the fathers." 

Family letters of the various Presidential households, their private records and 
diaries, their personal recollections and researches, have furnished for the most 
part material of this volume ; nevertheless the author is under much obligation to 
general biographical and historical literature, particularly to the Afagaziiic of 
American History, edited by Mrs. Martha J. Lamb. The portraits and illustrations 
are directly from the original paintings and family relics. The descendants and 
representatives of the various families have most heartily and abl\- co-operated in 
the preparation of the work, and so thorough has been the personal revision and 
substantiation that it is believed that the entire statement may be relied upon for 
perfect accuracy. 



Chapter I. 
Chaptrr II. 



Chapter I. 
Chapter II. 
Chapter III. 



Chapter I. 
Chapter II. 
Chapter III. 



Chapter I. 
Chapter II. 
Chapter III. 



Chapter L 
Chapter II. 



THE FAMILY (.)F GE(.IRGE WASHINGTON. 
John Parke Custis and Martha Parke Custis 
Nellie Custis and George Washington Parke Custis 

II. 

THE FAMILY OF JOHN ADAMS. 

In Quixcv .......... 

In Europe .......... 

After the Revolution .... 

III. 
THE FAMILY OF THOMAS JEFFERSON. 
School-Days in France ....... 

Philadelphia and the White House . . . . 

At Monticello ......... 

IV. 
THE FAMILY OF JAMES MADISON. 

At Montpelier 

In Washington 

After the Presidency ....... 

V. 

THE FAMILY OF JAMES MONROE. 
Abroad .......... 

At Home . 



73 
96 



149 
162 
169 



191 

204 



243 
261 



COATK.yJS. 



Chapitr 
Cluipler 
CluipUr 



CluifUr 
Cli,ipi,-r 
Chapter 



VI. 
Till-; KAMIIV (•! loIlN (_il-IN<V AliAMS. 
/. Cl.lMI'SKS 
//. Thk TllRKi; .Sun- 

///. Latkr Uavs 

VII. 
TIIK IIOl'SKIIOLl) OK 
/. .\ Ci.iMPsE iiV THE President's Hoyhood 
//. Bekdre ihk Prksipkxcv 
///. In the \\hiil House .... 



\M»KK\V JACKSCIN. 



29^ 
306 

3-'' 



337 
34f. 
370 



I. — The Family of George Washington. 

Mrs. Martha Custis 19 

Mrs. Washington's children, John Parke Cnstis and Martha Parke Custis ... 23 

Mount Vernon .............. 26 

Mrs. Washington's Bed-chamber as restored ......... 27 

George Washington 30 

Martha Washington ............. 31 

Pohick Church 35 

^--ietter from George Washington on the death of Martha Custis 37 

.Nellie Custis's Bandoria 41 

Eleanor Parke Custis {" Nellie Custis ") ......... 43 

Nellie Custis's Harpsichord, now at Mount Vernon 45 

George Washington Parke Custis 47 

George Washington Parke Custis 50 

Nellie Custis's room at Mount Vernon, as " Restored " 51 

The Washington pew in Christ Church, Alexandria 54 

The Washington family Bible, now at Christ Church, Alexandria .... 55 

Elizabeth Parke Custis 57 

Woodlawn ............... 59 

Martha Custis, afterward Mrs. Peters 61 

Whistle .md Rattle of Rose Coral 62 

Martha Washington China 63 

Washington Salad Bowl 63 

Mrs. Nellie Custis Lewis's China 64 

Embroidery by Mrs. Nellie Custis Lewis, with autograph inscription .... 66 

n. — The Family of John Adams. 

Nightcap ............... 73 

Birthplace of John Adams and John Quincy Adams 75 

Mrs. John Adams 7S 

John Adams .........,.,,,. 79 



LIST OF n.l.L STRATJOyS. 



Silvci Creamer mviicd bv Julin Adams 

Abigail Ailams (Mrs. I oloncl Smith) 

Cradle in which John Adams and John (Juincy Adams were rocked 
Haby clothes made by Mrs. John Adams for her son John Qiiincy Adams 

John (Juincy as a child 

Kront and back covers of a diary kept by John (^>iiincy Adams when a boy 

Silver Cotfce-pot owned by John .\dams 

Mrs. John .Xdams's fan .......... 

Inside front cover and lir.-.t page of the Diary begun by John (^iiincy .\il 
age of eleven, reduced about one half ...... 

I'ages ten and twelve of the Diary 

Mrs. William S. Smith (Abigail .\dams) 

One of the John .Xdams spoons 

I'residcnt John Adams ... 

Abigail Adams (Mrs. John Adams) 

Letter from Mr. John Adams 

Charles .\dams in his youth 

Thomxs liiiylston Adams at twenty-three 

Facsimile autograph letter by John .\dams, much reduced in size 

'• A reward of industry " 

John Quincy .Xdains — Mrs. John <Juincy Adams 

.Autograph letter ..... 

.Mrs. Klizabeth C. .\dams at .seventy-seven 



93 
96 



107 
"3 
"9 
1 17 

Ml, 

126 

'3= 
'35 
'37 
141 



iwned liy T. Jefferson Coolidge 



III.— The I'amii.y <ii Tikjmas Jkffkkson. 
Mug belonging to Thomas Jefferson 

President Jefferson 

Facsimile letter by little Polly Jefferson 
Mr.s. Martha Jefferson Randolph 
Sugar-bowl belonging to Thomas Jefferson 
John Waylcs Eppcs (" Jacky " Eppes) . 
Silver plate belonging to Thomas Jefferson, 

The Marie .Antoinette va.se 

Monticello. the home of President Jefferson 

Fac-simile letter by President Jefferson's little grandchild, Cornelia 
Fac-siniilc letter by President Jefferson ....... 

Septimia Randolph (Mrs. Meiklehani) 

Ix'ttcr from Mrs. Randolph to her daughter .Septimia (.Mr*. Meiklehani) 
Doll house ............ 

T. Jefferson Randolph 



149 

'53 

156 

'59 
16: 

""•3 
165 
169 
171 
'73 
'74 
175 
17.S 

'79 
i.Si 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 

Edge Hill, the home of '1'. Jefferson Randolph 138 

Jefferson's cane .............. 184 

President Jefferson ............. 1S5 

IV. — The F.\milv of James Madison. 

.Airs. Dolly Madison's ear-drops .......... loi 

Mistress Dolly Todd (afterwards Mrs. Madison) ,. . 195 

Montpellier, the home of the Madisons .......... 201 

Mrs. Dolly Madison 204 

Richard D. Cutts 206 

Anna Payne Cutts .............. 207 

James Madison — Dolly Madison ........... 210 

James Madison 213 

Mrs. James Madison 216 

The President's house . . . . . . . . . . . . 217 

Mrs. Dolly Madison's ear-drops and necklace ........ 218 

Payne Todd, son of Mrs. Madison 221 

President James Madison ............ 223 

Mrs. Dolly Madison, in late life 227 

" The Madison House," Washington, D. C 231 

Facsimile autograph letter from Mrs. Madison to her son, Payne Todd . . . 233 

Fac-simile letter from President Madison to his nephew, Richard D. Cutts, Jr. . 23^ 

Fac-simile autograph letter from Mrs. Madison to her nephew, Richard D. Cutts, Jr. . 239 

V. — The Family of James Monroe. 

James Monroe in 1794 ............. 243 

Autograph letter by James Monroe 245 

Eliza and Maria Monroe's little-chair .......... 247 

Mrs. James Monroe in 1794 ............ 249 

Madame Campan 253 

Hortense de Beauharnais 256 



Oak Hill — North and South front 



257 



Spur and Buckle .............. 259 

Clock belonging to President Monroe .......... 261 

Maria Monroe at fifteen . ............ 262 

Mrs. James Monroe ............. 264 

President James Monroe ............ 265 

Eliza Monroe (Mrs. Hay) ., 269 

Mrs. Monroe's topaz jewelry ............ 271 

Bas-relief of Maria Monroe (Mrs. Gouverneur) ........ 273 



LIST 01' JLLUSINATIOXS. 



Queen Ilorlense 

Eugene de Reauliarnais .... 
The Madame Campan medal .... 
The llruUI Hill Park nian>ion 
Bracelet, willi cameo head of Clirlsl 

Kac-simile letter 

Oak Mill, the home of {'resident Monroe 
Prcsiilenl James Monroe .... 

Kac simile fragment of poem by Maria Monroe- 

Sanuiel I,. Gouverneur 

Mantel and mirror at Oak Hill, presented to Prcsi 
Chinese gong in bronze with carved stand 
Fac-simile poem by Samuel L. CJouverneur, Jr. 



dent 



Monroe by 



Lafavette 



VI. — TlIK F.VMII.Y OF JcUlN QlMNCV ADAMS. 

.\ White House baby 
John Quincy Adams 
Some White House fans 
Mrs. John (Juincy .Xdams 
President John Quincy Adams 

Ten support 

Family record leaf .... 
George Washington Adani> 

John Adams 

Charles Francis Adams at nineteen 
The " Dorothy Q." of to-day . 
An .Abigail Adams of to-day . 

White House toys 

Mary Louisa Adams, born in the White House 

Dress worn by Mary Louisa Ad.ims at her christening in the White House 

The christening present 

The I'atroon's inscription 
"Sally," the White House doll 
The inscription in the Iliblc 
Mrs. John Quincy Adams 

John Quincy Adams 

The old Adams house at Quincy 

VII — TiiK HoisKiioi.D OF Anhrkw Jackson. 

J.ickson carriage, made from the war-ship " Old Ironsides 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 

Mrs. Rachel Jackson, wife of President Jactcson 339 

President Andrew Jackson 341 

The first Hermitage ; still standing 346 

Andrew Jackson, adopted son of General Jackson 349 

Andrew Jackson Donelson, nephew of Mrs. Jackson 353 

Fac-siraile autograph letter by President Jackson 359 

Mrs. Andrew Jackson Donelson (Emily Donelson) 363 

" Old Hannah " and her son • . . . . 366 

Silver christening cup ....■-.•■.... 370 

Mrs. Andrew Jackson (Sarah Vorke) 371 

The Hermitage, Home of General Andrew Jackson, near Nashville, Tenn. . . 374 

Rachel Jackson (afterward Mrs. John Lawrence), grandchild of General Jackson, and 

his wife's namesake ; daughter of the adopted son, Andrew Jackson . . . 376 

Andrew Jackson, Jr. .... . ....... 377 

Rachel Donelson (afterward Mrs. Eckford) ; daughter of Andrew Jackson Donelson . 379 

Some White House Jackson relics .......... 3S0 

General Jackson in old age .......•■■.. 3^3 

Rachel, wife of General Jackson ........... 385 

Colonel Andrew Jackson, the present master of the Hermitage 388 

Mrs. John Lawrence (Rachel Jackson, daughter of General Jackson's adopted son) . 389 

The fourth Andrew Jackson (son of Colonel Andrew Jackson) 392 

Equestrian statue of General Jackson ......... 394 



THE FAMILY OF GEORGE IVASHINGTON. 



THE FAMILY OF GEORGE WASHINGTON. 



CHAPTER I. 



JOHN PARKE CUSTIS AND MARTHA PARKE CUSTIS. 




MRb M^Kl H \ LLbllb 



T is said that tlie name by which the 
people at large call the Executive Man- 
sion, the " White House," had its origin 
in a pretty sentiment, as creditable to us 
as it is romantic ; that it was so styled be- 
cause the old colonial estate where the 
young widow Custis was living with her 
two little children, when George Washing- 

i^Pa t ted ly II ootaston at twenty fot r 

be/ore her marriage to George tOD firSt paid llCT his COUrt, WaS IcnOWR aS 

Washington ; ozofteti by Gen. 

Custis Lee,Lcxington,i-a.) " Wliltc Housc." It was f rom Itsdoors, "iu 
a gorgeous chariot," that he drove with her to St. Peter's Church 
not far away to make her Mrs. Washington. The wedding-day 
was the occasion of a great merry-making on the estate; a happy 
day, and the first of a long line of eventful ones in the life of its 
mistress. In writing herself " Martha Washington " that morning, 
the young dame could not have foreseen that hers then became a 
name to endure longer in the mind of the world than any other 
American woman's. 

19 



20 '^fll- IIMIJ-VOIGEORGJ: U.lSllIAGJOX. 

The tall young bridegroom was in uniform — Washington %cas 
tall; he stood six-feet-two in his slippers — and we know, (hough 
some have said " it was a fine white silk," that the small, stately 
bride wore a wedding dress of light brocaded salmon silk, as there 
is a pincushion made of a remnant of the gown — a wedding pres- 
ent to a young bridr of our time; it was given by Mrs. Robert E. 
Lee (Mary Cuslis), a lineal descendant of that little Jacky Custis 
who dutifully staid at home at the " White I louse "' plantation with 
his tiny sister Martha, while his mother went away on her bridal 
visits with his new father. 

A recent writer in Harper's Magazine visiting tlie place — still 
known thereabouts as the " Washington estate " because Washing- 
ton came in possession at the marriage — gathered up some inter- 
esting accounts of the wedding, that remain from the stories of old 
slaves who were at the ceremony. Washington, thr tradition is, 
was very smiling and chatty that day, "looked very youthful and 
hand^jome, and tripped around in a very lively manner," and "as 
they came out of the church the newly-united couple had a joyful 
a])pearance." When 

" the whole party got back to the ' White House,' it r.nng with laughter, merriment, music and danc- 
ing: a good deal of wine was drunk at the supper, which was of the genuine old-fashioned sort, 
Init there was no intoxication or disorderly proceedings. Washington and his bride took part in 
the dancing of the minuet, but retired early; the rest of the .-ussembly enjoyed their fun until a 
very late hour, some staying in the house all night, and others departing for their homes. .Ml the 
house servants were given a piece of the wedding-cake and a small gratification in money. The 
next morning Washington, who was an early riser, took breakfast with his bride in their chamber 
l>efore any of the guests had risen," 

and the little breakfast-table still remains on the place in the pos- 
session of a great-grandson of little jack\- Custis. 

Mrs. Custis's estate compri>ed about eight thousand acre>. It 



THE FAMILY OF GEORGE WASHINGTON. 2 1 

lay in Southern Virginia, in New Kent County, not far from White 
House Landing, some thirty miles or more from Richmond. The 
old house of Mrs. Custis's day is gone. When the Union army, 
in the Civil W^ar, was marched into the region, another descendant 
of the same little Jacky endeavored to save the house where her 
young ancestress and General Washington spent the first months 
of their wedded life. It is said that she nailed upon the door a 
message to the soldiers : 

" Northern soldiers, who profess to revere Washington, forbear to desecrate the home of his 
first married life, the property of his wife, and now owned by her descendants. 

A Granddaughter of Mrs. Washington."' 

For some time the house was protected, but later — to their 
shame be it recorded — it was burned by some Northern soldiers 
who could not forget that it was the property of a Rebel ofificer. 

This historical wedding took place in 1759. Washington was 
a colonel then, and twenty-seven years old. He had inherited 
an estate on the Potomac, Mount Vernon, from his brother, 
and here presently, he brought his wife and her children. Mrs. 
Washington's first husband, Daniel Parke Custis, died a man of 
wealth, and little John and Martha were left rich. 

John was six years old, and Martha four, when they entered 
their new home, and as General Washington never had children of 
his own, these little people grew into his love ; he became a father 
to them, sharing their joys and griefs, and fitting them for life. 

What a glorious place the little Custises must have found 
Mount Vernon ! Acres of ground with fruit ; a great house filled 
with furniture and bric-a-brac new to them ; a long gallery where 
they could play on rainy days, being out-of-doors, but protected 
from the weather. The garden was fine, even so long ago as that 



22 i'JlK JAMIJ.y OF GEORGE WASHJNGTOiX. 

time. 1 lie hedges of box, a luiiulred and forty years old now, were 
•;reen aiul handsome in their tiirifty young growth, and the great 
Sago palms, which visitors see now, adorned the garden in the 
children's day. (The four sweet-scented shrubs from another 
Presidential garden, Monticello, came later. JefYerson sending 
them; tlie family named them after their four friends: Adams, 
Jefferson, Madison and Monroe.) liest of all in their eyes was a 
huge hill which is very high and terminates in a lawn bordered 
by the river. Here was a chance to roll down, to run down, to 
race down, and a place to watch large boats, and sail little ones ; a 
place to wade and paddle, and to skip stones. 

But from all that can be learned, these pleasures were to be 
enjoyed circumspectly and in moderation. The children had each 
a young slave who followed them about and waited on them after 
the manner of old Southern people. We find Martha dressed like 
a little woman, her hair done up and adorned with egrets or " pon- 
pons " (ornaments of feathers and ribbons), and saying her lessons 
and practising on her harpsichord at regular times each day; giving 
her mother little trouble and often calling forth the admiration of 
her voung foster-father who considered her "a ladylike child of 
winning ways. " 

All the lu.xuries of the early colonists were brought from Eng- 
land, and were ordered once a year. I Below is named a few of the 
articles selected from a long list which Colonel Washington ordered 
for " Miss Custis " when she was six years old : 

" A coat made of fa.«ihionable silk. 

Four fa.shional>le dresses lo lit- made of Long lawn. 

Two fine camliric frocks. 

A satlin capuchin and neckatue. 

1'wo pair sattin shoes. 




WASHINGTON S CHILDREN: JOHN PARKE CUSTIS AND MARTHA PARKK CUSTIS. 
{From the original painting in possession of Gen. Cttstis Lee, Lexington, Va.") 



THE FAMILY OF GEORGE WASHINGTON. 25 

One pair silver shoe buckles. 

Six handsome egrets different sorts. 

Six yards ribbon do. 

One fashionable dress doll to cost a guinea. 

One fashionable dress doll to cost five shillings. 

One box Gingerbread, Toys and Sugar Images, Comfits. 

One very good spinet (a small harpsichord) &c." 

Master John fared equally well at this time — he was then eight 
— for his order, known as " Master Custiss," is very full. Below 
are a few of the items : 

" One handsome suit of Winter cloathes. 

One handsome suit of Summer cloathes very light. 

One silver laced hat. 

Two hair bags. 

One piece of ribbon for ditto. 

One pair of silver shoe and knee buckles. 

One pair of sleeve buttons. 

A neat small Prayer Book." / 



\ 



Then comes an order for a livery for a slave boy of fourteen, 
and the command : " Let the livery be suited to the Arms of the 
Custis family." 

Martha was a studious, attentive child, and gave herself to her 
lessons, which were not long ones, for in those days parents did 
not think it necessary to give any considerable schoolroom educa- 
tion to their daughters — it is safe to say that young Mrs. Wash- 
ington herself never felt mortification on account of the bad 
spelling in her letters and expense-books, and that she was not 
criticised or laughed at secretly by other dames of her time. 
Martha worked upon her sampler at certain hours, practised her 
exercises under her mother's instructions, and acquired much 
domestic knowledge as she walked about demurely at Mrs. Wash- 



2b 



THE lAMJl.y Ol- GEORGE WASHJXGTOX. 



iiv'ton's side throui^li tlu- kitchens and the slave quarters; the new 
mistress at Mount \ernun was an exact, economical and systematic 
housekeeper. 

As for John, he was studying manfully. For a boy life always 
has been serious business. His young foster-father taught him en- 
crineering and the rudiments of military tactics, and trained him in 
out-of-door sports. The trim little fellow in his queue, and Washing- 
ton, who was a magnificent horseman, rode many miles together 
over the hills of Virginia, and in these excursions we find them 
growing very confidential. A note or two in Washington's diary 
which refers to these recreations, states : " Went a hunting with 
Jacky Custis and catched a fox after three hours' chase. I'ound 
it in the creek." 

No doubt Master Custis stood in full importance among his 
voung neighbors. He had his own lands, his own slaves and an 

income from his tobacco; 
in fact the care exercised 
by Colonel Washington to 
secure proper investments 
in behalf of his wards was 
much greater than he em- 
ployed for his own property. 
The entire Washington 
family were devoted Kpis- 
copalians. Every Sunday, 
unless the weather was too severe, they rode in a chaise to 
church ; but on all other occasions they traveled in a huge 
chariot drawn by four horses and having black postilions in 
liverv. I-ittle Martha dressed in feathers and finery, and John in 




MOlNr VKK.SD.N. 
Sk,'.ii»f. Jl Ikr U/l. Ikr faJlrrv xfluri Ihi .kildrtH fliyeJ i 



THE FAMILY OF GEORGE WASHINGTON. 



his silver-lacecl hat, silver shoe buckles, hair tied with ribbon, and 
a colored coat, would surely create a sensation could they to- 
day dash along through a 
crowded town seated in the 
family chariot drawn by ele- 
gant horses and attended by 
slaves. 

Among the few existing 
family letters written by 
Mrs. Washington is one 
which portrays her heart in 




MRS. WASHINGTON S UED-CH/VMBER, 



tender colors. She is writ- 
ing of an absence from home. Jacky is nine years old, and Martha 
is seven. However modes of spelling vary and fashions in the use 
of capital letters, and though punctuation now generally prevails, 
mothers' hearts beat precisely the same to-day as in 1762. Mrs. 
Washington says : 

" I carred my little patt with me and left JaL-ky at home for a trial to see how well I could 
stay without him though we ware gon but wone fortnight I was quite irapatiant to get home. If 
I at anoy time heard the doggs bark or a noise out I thought thair was a person sent for me. I 
often fancied he was sik, or some accident had happenned to him. . . . I think patty seems to 
be quite well now, Jacky is very thin, but in good health, and learn thaire books very fast." 

Mrs. Wasliington was mindful that the period was drawing near 
wlien Jacky would be sent away to school and she must " stay 
without him " much longer than " wone fortnight." 

Master Custis, at fourteen, is away at school. His foster-father 
speaks of him as "a boy of good genius, untainted in his morals 
and of innocent manners." He goes to his tutor provided with a 
boy " well acquainted with house business," and with two horses to 



28 '^m-- lAMIl.y OF GEOR(.iI: WASH lAC lOX. 

Iiirni^h him witli tlic means i)f gcttiivj; to ( luiicli and cl sew he- re. 
Colonel \\ ashini;t()n atlcls (uiitin;^ to Master Jack's tutor) that he 

" will cheerfully pay ten or twtlvi; puuiuls uxlraordinai) lo engage your peculiar care of, and a 
watchful eye to. Iiiin, as he is a piomisiiig lioy, the lust of his family, and will possess a very large 
Fortune; .idd to (his my anxiety to make him lit for more useful pur|>ose than Morse Kaces." 

Little Martha grew on into womanhood, and is said to have 
been tiiiite pretty — so decided a brunette that she was termeil the 
"dark lady." She had, however, inherited a delicate constitution 
from her father, and soon showed great fragility and became 
subject to faintings. The family made many sojourns at the 
Warm Springs and elsewhere, for her health, but she died when 
only seventeen. 

There is a letter in existence written by Colonel \\'a>hington 
the ne.xt day after Martha died ("dear Patsy Custis " he calls her), 
an old, soft, crumbling letter with a worn wrapping and a great 
red wafer, letter and wrap|)er both as dark yellow as rose leaves 
from pot-pourri jars of another century, and feeling in the hand as 
though they might fall into powder. 

(The owner of the letter, in giving it for its reproduction here, 
says that his father was one of the few who ever saw the august 
Washington laugh ; the occasion, a pretty scene, was one of his 
very earliest memories. It w-as many, many years after " that Sweet 
Innocent Girl " died. He went with his parents to dine with Mr. 
Lawrence Lewis, and General Washington was present. .After the 
cloth was removed one of the company set the little five-year-old 
child upon the table and told him he must give a toast. The little 
fellow turned, unbidden, to the General and drank his health, and 




The " Atheiwmn'" head. Pamtedfr^ 



GEORGE WASH IN (-.TON. 
1 lije hi tl^,by Gilterl S/,„i 



Chuiied by the Boston A the. 



tVaw tti tlie Boston Museum of Fine A rts. 




MARTHA WASHINGTON. 

Fahncd from lije in 1796, by Gilbert Shiart Owned by the Boston AtheiKEUvi. No7u in the Boston 

MiiscnjH 0/ Fine Arts. 



THE FAMILY OF GEORGE WASHINGTON. 33 

Washington laughed heartily at the child's readiness and self- 
command.) 

Gentle Patsy Custis ! her place was not easily filled in the 
house, though there was still young life there. Her mother and 
her brother were heartbroken at her loss, and the negroes on the 
plantation shed tears many years afterward as they recounted her 
good cjualities. She had given her foster-father a true daughter- 
love, and as if to show her appreciation of his kindness she willed 
to him her entire property, which was quite a fortune. She sleeps 
at Mount Vernon, with those of her own blood. 

Colonel Washington abounded with kindness toward many 
young relatives of his own, also. With one of hem, a niece, the 
daughter of his brother Samuel, he seems to have had peculiar 
trials. It doubtless was nearly impossible that the neat and exact 
Mrs. Washington, who loved to be in spotless dress and suitably 
ready for all occasions, should understand a temperament the 
opposite of her own, and she probably often spoke of her dis- 
couragements to her husband. Poor little Harriet ! 

This ward, this unorderly Harriet who evidently liked always 
to be in her finest feathers. Colonel Washington sends to his sister, 
Mrs. Betty Lewis ; it was during an absence from home of Mrs. 
Washington — she may have been at the Springs with the delicate 
Martha, as it was the year before her death. He writes of the girl 
that he thinks she goes well-provided ; " this much I know, that 
she costs me enough," he says, but adds that he will still do for 
her what he has done for seven years past. The letter runs : 

'■ Harriet has sense enough, but no disposition to industry, nor to be careful of her cloatlies. 
I wish you would examine her cloathes and develop her in the use and application of them 
— for without this they will be (I am told) dabbed about in every hole and corner, and her best 
things always in use." 



34 



IHJ: lAMlIV OJ CI.ORdE UASm.XGTOy. 



\Vc mav excuse tlie future I-ather of his Country for this out- 
burst of plain sjjeaking, as he liad paid some seven hundred pounds 
for the " cloathes " and schooHng of two of Miss Harriet's brothers. 

Perliaps Mrs. Betty Lewis had a knack with girls. She writes 
presently that she finds Harriet a good girl, tractable, and " really 
verv ingenious in making her 'cloathes ' and altering them to the 
best advantage," and explains to him that " many things which 
could be worn to the last string in a ct)untry place will not do 
where Miss Harriet sees so much comj^any." 

In I 796 we find the much-discussed Harriet happily proposed 
for in marriage, and the President of the L'nited States taking care 
that she marry a man of good habits and decent fortune. 

•At this period, 1772-73, Master Jack was away at school, first 
in Annapolis, later in King's College (now Columbia) in New 
York. With a quick mind for study, he enjoyed better an active 
out-of-door life. He had outgrown his delicacy of constitution, but 
not his taste for s]X)rt, and not infrequently he stole away from 
that tutor who was to have " a watchful eye to him " to go fox- 
hunt in;.;. 

He also made plans for traveling, and when these were com- 
pleted and he had reported them to his foster-father, he was as- 
tonished to find himself advised to study at present and travel 
afterwards. 

He had hardlv set aside this scheme, which had diverted his 
attention from his books, when another more serious presented 
itself. He fell deeply in love with Kleanor, the daughter of Bene- 
dict Calvert, son of Lord Baltimore. This was a matter upon 
which the youth would not accept advice. A correspondence 
ensued between the two fathers, and Colonel Washington said. 



THE FAMILY OF GEORGE WASHINGTON. 



"John must be educated before he marries any one; he is utterly 
deficient in some studies." He did not object to Miss Eleanor, 
and he suggested that as they seemed so fond of each other per- 
haps it would be well to permit a formal engagement, as both 
would thus avoid little flirtations which were demoralizing. This 
mode of procedure was agreed upon by the fathers and children. 

This settled, young Custis left Annapolis for college to remain 
two years. But Nellie Calvert had so impressed herself upon his 
heart that he saw her on every page of his book and wrote of her 
in all his exercises. In this condition he stayed at school three 
months; and in February, 1774, she being sixteen and he nineteen, 
they were married. 

The new family were domiciled under tlie Mount Vernon roof. 
The young husband took up his studies again, but with an eye 
upon public affairs, for 
stormy times were at hand. 

Now comes the War 
of Independence, and at 
Mount Vernon there is no 
more sweet secure home- 
life ; with Lieutenant Colo- 
nel Experience Storrs, a 
Connecticut officer who 
had hurried to Boston after 
Lexington, " we hear a 
Chief officer is appointed, a General Washington of Virginia, to 
supercede in the command of ye troops here." 

Having a doubt of his own capacity. Colonel Washington, made 
General-in-Chief, accepted command of the American armies re- 




ronh K 1 iiukcii. 

lUry cluirJi cj the If.tshhig/oji J'ami/y, built kc/orc the 
Revolution, from plans by Washington) 



3b JUi- J-.lMJJ.y OJ- GEORGl: WASHLXGTON. 

luctantly and went on from Philadelphia to Cambridge. " He had 
an imposing modesty," said one of his time, >peaking of him. 

\'xo\w 1775 to i7,Si the tumults anti suspense> and forebodings 
of war shook and darkened Mount Vernon. I'or seven years after 
his departure for Congress at Philadelphia its master did not set 
foot within its hall>. Little children — four little Custises — 
J<ihn's children — were born, and their sunny company did what 
little children mav do to brighten hearts full of great cares. 
Their voung father was aid-de-camp to the deneral. and in active 
service on the field. 

In 1776 young Mrs. Custis and Mr>. Washington were in 
Xew York Citv, at headquarters, at Richmond llill. There the 
harassed General could feel that Mrs. Washington was compara- 
tivelv safe. Lord Dunmore, the winter before (when Washington 
was in Cambridge), had threatened to attack Mount Vernon and 
seize the wife of the American Commander-in-Chief. Though 
during the Revolution Mrs. Washington usually was at Mount 
W'rnon in summer, she was often in cam]) with her husband 
in winter when hostilities and forced marches and surprises were 
not so unceasingly in order. At one time the General thought of 
removing her into Richmond for safety. In 17S1 Cornwallis and 
Tarleton were pressing up from the Carolinas into \'irginia and 
committing great depredations in the country surrounding Mount 
X'ernon ; and he saw her start homeward from camp with many 
misgivings, arranging for her "to halt at Philadelphia if from 
information and circumstances it was not likely she should remain 
quietlv at Mount V^crnon." It wa> just at the time when Tarleton 
with his flying dragoons had been sent to capture the Governor of 
Virginia, Thomas Jefferson. The young Marquis de Lafayette 



/iOt,^ ^» ^^i-^e-^^t-is^ /"^tS^ ai^^-^^ ap^/^^ct^ ^'S^^T-c^, . 
^f-gu-^^a-A-^ i^itS^c^ (:^1<<2J> .^(Sy^tSl^^ y<>;^...^ir7-7>'-^<'-f~- 

^^-^■55iy-cL ..iiC PZ£-c^ Vty-T^^ ^-p-e--^^ yOJ-jCt-^^-e^a. .A2JZ^i£<yi-<ii^ 



THE FAAULY OF GEORGE WASHINGTON. 



39 



was in command of the troops in that region, and with his h'ght- 
horse was brilliantly skirmishing about in the neighborhood of the 
future Presidential homes — Mount Vernon, Oak Hill, Monticello, 
Montpelier. By the British Generals Lafayette was contemptu- 
ously styled " the Boy." Cornwallis writes, " The Boy cannot 
escape me." Presently "the Boy" writes airily to General 
Washington of the British, " They have been so kind as to retire 
before us." 

Washington's own private interests did not prosper during the 
long seven-years absence. He writes it down with some bitterness, 
in 1779. He is disheartened, perhaps, with the retreats and 
defeats of the American armies, and with the dissatisfaction the 
country felt toward him as a leader. It was after the gloomy 
winters at Valley Forge and Morristown, during which he had to 
say, more than once, of the struggle for liberty, " the game's nearly 
up!" He says, "To speak within bounds, ten thousand pounds 
will not compensate the loss I ought to have avoided by being at 
home and attending a little to my own concerns." During his 
absence Mrs. Washington and his agent were unable to collect 
their dues. They averaged but a shilling to the pound from the 
debtors. " Alas ! " says the absent General, " what a miserable 
change has four years produced in the temper and dispositions of 
the sons of America! It really shocks me to think of it ! " 

But by August of the same year (1781) Rochambeau with his 
gallant Frenchmen had arrived, and with his own army, the 
French troops following, Washington went down from the North 
into Virginia to meet Cornwallis. There were banquets and 
reviews all along the march, and great enthusiasm of the people. 
Once in his own State, he galloped for Mount Vernon, and on a 



40 



THE lAMlI.y OF GEORGE WASIUNGrON. 



golden September Sunday lie drew rein at his own door, after the 
seven-years absence, tor a three-days visit. 

Then came the shutting up of Cornwallis in Yorktown, and 
the long siege and the surrender of the British sword, and the 
national rejoicing. Hut for the Washington family it was a sad 
season. Colonel Custis Jiad contracted a fever during the expos- 
ure attending the siege. He was carried to Klthani, the seat of a 
relative. Colonel Bassett, and his mother and his wife came to nurse 
him. But early in November word was taken to General Wash- 
ington that Colonel Custis could not live. The General hastened 
to the bedside to find him breathing his last. When Martha was 
dying he knelt by her in silent prayer, but when he saw Colonel 
Custis, his "dear Jacky," suddenly taken away, he threw himself 
full length on a couch and wept like a child. 



THE FAMILY OF GEORGE WASHINGTON. 



41 



CHAPTER II. 



NELLIE CUSTIS AND GEORGE WASHINGTON PARKE CUSTIS. 




NELLIE CUSTIS'S BANDOKIA. 



By the death of his foster-son, Colonel Custis, Gen- 
eral Washington's heart and home were again desolated. 
He begged of the girlish widow the gift of her 
youngest two children. She had four, and, reluc- 
tantly, she granted him the request. He 
legally adopted Eleanor Parke Custis 
who was two years and a half old, and 
George Washington Parke Custis who 
was six months. The little boy was 
known always as " Washington," while 
his sister was called " Nellie." The latter 
was a beautiful child with smiling black eyes and thick curly 
brown hair, while her little brother was of very light complexion, 
looking more like his mother's family. The two elder children 
were little girls, Martha and Elizabeth — "Patsy" and "Betsy" 
they were called. They remained their mother's; Mrs. Custis 
later married Dr. Stuart. 

Yorktown was the last great battle of the Revolution, though 
it was some time before all the British troops sailed from our 
shores. Mrs. Washington went North with the General soon after 
the surrender, to visit the camps. She staid awhile at Pompton, 
N. J., where the New York troops were living in their winter huts, 
and shared their homely fare, creating great cheerfulness among 



4^ 



JJII: JAMII y OF GKORGJ: UASIlIXGTOy. 



tlic sDldicrs. Ikit after that time she was at home, at Mount 
\'cinuii, with her young family of grandchilcircn ; all the four were 
there at first. In 17X3, in reply to an invitation from the Marquis 
de I.afayette to visit !•' ranee, General Washington thus replies for 
ht-r : ■■ Mr>. Washington feels herself far too advanced in life and 
too much immersed in the care of her little progeny (the four 
children of her son, John Parke Custis, who died in 17S1) to cross 
the Atlantic." 

Like their predecessors, their little father and aunt, these small 
Custises passed a charming childhood at Mount Vernon. In the 
Centennial number of the Ciii/nrv Man^aziiif, Mrs. Burton Harri- 
son, of the Virginia Fairfaxes, gives us glimpses of the Mount 
X'ernon of those years, " enthroned on grassy hilltops " by the silver 
Potomac. Horn and hound sounded merrily over the autumn hills, 
for (ieneral Washington dearly loved the chase. When the chil- 
dren were little, there was a delightfully fearsome pack of hounds 
in the kennels; I'rench dogs, a gift from Lafayette, " fierce, big- 
mouthed, savage." Mrs Washington was afraid of them, and they 
were sent ofT, afterwards. There were litters of beautiful jjuppies. 
The stables were full of horses, fine creatures, for pets and play- 
fellows. Nellie, the youngest girl, the adopted daughter, liked 
to be with horses, and was constantlv alarming her grandmother as 
she flashed by the windows or down the lanes mounted upon some 
half-broken colt. The children all loved old " Xelson," the tall 
chestnut, the General's war-horse. Washington rode him at York- 
town. He was never saddled or bridled after he came to .Mount 
\'ernon. W^ashington paid him a dcily visit in the stall or the 
pasture, and the little Custises were fond of climbing up on the 
fence to pat his forehead, as he came racing up to greet his mas- 



















1 ■■' 


-^ 


■ 








Wt ^^im 


|l 








^K ' 




■1 








^K 




^^m 


mm 






W' 4 












m-y 




y^ 








^^■^■/.-■' 




Bjl^H 








Wf^ 




^^1 



















KLEANOR PARKE CUSTIS ("NELLIE CUSTIS"). 
(T/u- ^^ramidaiighter adopted by li'askmgton. From the fainting by Gilbert Stuart, no 
of Gen. Ciistis Lee.) 



THE FAMILY OF GEORGE WASHINGTON. 45 

ter. There were many " exotic animals," as Washington termed 
them, gifts of various admirers and friends, among them Span- 
ish jackasses, Chinese pigs and Chinese geese. Going on at all 
times was something to interest children. They might go down 
to the landing to see what strange fish the old house-fisherman, 
" Daddy Jack," Iiad caught — day in and day out " Daddy Jack" 
was always dreamily fishing there in his canoe ; or they might go 
to meet the hunter — and he was a spectacle, to be sure, for little 
folks' eyes, " carrying his gun and pouch, his body wrapped with 
strings of game, his dogs at heel." They liked to look at the game 
and smooth the thick feathers or soft fur — there were " birds, 
squirrels, wild turkeys, ' molly cotton-tails,' wily 'possum, canvas- 
back ducks." Coaches of company, too, were coming and going. 
State dinners were cooked and served to nobles and dignitaries. 
There were hosts of relatives to pet them and take ,//'//'}/ 
notice of them, and examine into their accomplish- [|»h 
ments — their little dances, songs and 
studies. The house, too, was altered and 
made large and handsome. 
Rare things were set growing 
in the gardens — "fig-trees, 
raisins, limes, oranges, large 
English mulberries, arti- 
chokes," says a visitor to 
Mount Vernon in i7<'^9. 

NELl.lK CUSTIS'S HAKFSICHuKD, NOW AT M T. VICKNuN. 

Then there were the mills 

and the smithy, the shops and the fields and the quarters, all to 
visit in company with the General, and no doubt the little 
Custis folk often superintended with him the starting-off of the 




46 mi' i.tMii.y or (;/:oA(;/: ir.ts///.\(;roiv. 

loaded markL't-tait which the (it neral thriftily run between Mount 
Vernon and .Alexandria. 

To go Lack in-tloors, Mrs. Harrison thus pictures the mistress 
of Mount Vernon, who in summer always wore a gown of white 
dimity, in winter dressing in homespun : 



" A mol>cap covering her gray hair, and key-basket in hand, the wife nf Wa-shington must have 
offered a pleasant picture of the days when housekeepers were not a.shamed to weigh their own 
supplies, and butcher's lK>oks and lounging grocer's boys were not. In their ste.id were seen the 
black cook and her myrmidons, smiling, goggling, curtesying, holding their wooden pails and 
• piggins ' to receive the day's allowance. If there were a 'sugar loaf' to crack, a tall glittering 
monument, like an aiguille of the .Mps, emerging stainless from its dark-blue wrapper, it was the 
mistress of the house who brought her strength to bear on it ; there were ' whips ' and ' tloaling- 
islands ' and jellies to compound ; and to • tie down ' the preserves was no small piece of work. 

" The rites of the store-room at end, it was Mrs. Washington's practice to retire to her closet, 
for the exercise of private devotions, however onerous, was accepted as naturally by generations 
of Southern housewives as was the responsibility for their own tiesh and blood. 

" This business of reception went on intermittently during the morning hours ; but it Ls not to 
be supposed that Madam Washington .sat with idle hands the while. Scattered about the room 
were black women engaged at work that must be overlooked : Klavia cutting out innumerable gar- 
ments of domestic cotton for 'quarter' use. Sylvia at her .scam, .Myrtilla at her wheel — not to 
mention the small dark creatures with wool betwigged, perched upon crickets round al)out the 
hearth, learning to sew, to mend, to darn, with ' ole Muss ' for a teacher. I )uring the late war .Mrs. 
Washington's boast had been that .she h.-id kept as many as sixteen wheels at a time whirring on 
the plantation. .A favorite gown had been woven by her maids, of cotton, striped with silk pro- 
cured by raveling the General's di.sc-irded stockings, and enlivened by a line of crimson from .some 
worn-out chair-covers of satin damask. 

" In the intervals Madam was at leisure to chat with her guests alx>ut patterns, chicken.s, small- 
pox, husbands and such like. The management of children was also a fruitful theme. ... In 
the afternoon, their custom was to take a discreet walk in the shrubbery. At the right time of the 
year they would gather rose leaves to till the muslin bags that lay in every drawer, on every shelf; 
or sprays of honesty (they called it ' silver shilling ') to deck the va.ses on the parlor mantelpiece. 
After reading a bit out of the ' Tatler,' the ' Sentimental Magazine,' or the ' lx:tlers of Ijidy 
Montagu,' they would t.ike their forty winks — the beauty-sleep of a woman Southern-born. 

" Kveryliody looked forward to the evening, when the tlencral sat with them. This was the 
children's h<mr, when, by the uncertain twinkle of home-made candles, lighting but dimly the great 
saloon, while their elders turned trumps aruunil the card-tables, the young people were callrd upon 




i;eori;e washingion I'akkk cl'stI-s 
aiiiison adopted by WashingtoK. Painted by Pine. Owm 



Gen. Cttstis Lee.) 



THE FAMILY OF GEORGE WASHINGTON. 



49 



to show their steps, to strum their pieces, to sing their quavering little songs. The curled darling 
of the house was ' Master Washington.' Lafayette, during his last visit to America, told Mr. G. 
W. r. Custis he had seen him first on the portico at Mount Vernon in 17S4 — ' a very little gentle- 
man, with a feather in his hat, holding fast to one finger of the good General's remarkable hand, 
which (so large that hand !) was all, my dear sir, you could well do at the time ! ' " 

There is no doubt that " Master Washington " was an interest- 
ing child. Her grandmamma writing" to her sister Fanny says: 
'•' My little Nellie is getting well, and Tut [G. W. P. C] is the same 
claver boy you left him." 

Mrs. Washington, remembering how her gentle daughter had 
performed the tasks and acquired the accomplishments she had 
desired of her, considered that she knew perfectly well how to 
bring up a young girl, and applied the same rules to her grand- 
daughter. She had the assistance of an Englishwoman half-nurse, 
half-governess, known in the family as " Mammy Anderson." 

This child, however, was of different disposition from her aunt 
Martha. She would have liked to romp and play from dawn until 
dark. A thousand little pranks kept the household in commotion. 
She did not enjoy her music or her books. Nor did she care to 
have her hair dressed each day with feathers and ribbons. Her 
foster-father, hoping to encourage her, bought a new harpsichord 
costing one thousand dollars (there were at that time only two 
or three pianos in the United States), but the new instrument, 
which is now a dilapidated piece of furniture in possession of the 
Mount Vernon Ladies' Association, did not prove the desired incen- 
tive to Miss Eleanor. Her brother used to relate that he had seen 
her practice and cry for hours together while the determined grand- 
mother stood guard over her, keeping her at work. She was also 
provided with a bandoria, a species of guitar or mandolin ; this is 
still in existence and is the only one of its kind now in America. 



50 



J in-: F.iMii Y 01- i;kokgj: wasiilxcton. 



Little W'aaliington came in fin- his share (jf discipline and was 
given long lessons and tasks — tocf long, Mrs. Washington thought, 

for even a " clavcr boy." 
Little Nellie said it was 
well that grandpa])a, and not 
grandmamma, was educat- 
ing Washington, for grand- 
mamma certainly would spoil 
t * ^» ^^B^ \ ''•'■I''- rhe General in his 

r •■' .^^Ik 1 ^'■"" ^■'■'•''^ ^^ lighten Nellie's 

burdens and used to carry 
her off, at a crisis, for a 
gallop or an out-of-doors 
walk and talk. He was e.\- 
tremetv fond of little girls. 
He had Nellie's sister, the 
pretty Elizabeth, with him 
when he sat for one of his 
portraits, and it is said the 
artist was so struck with 
the beauty, the sweet eyes, of the girl that later he jiainted her 
frf)m recollection. Mr. Moncure Conwav. writing in Harper's 
Mont/i/y, says : 

" The great athletic hardy soldier, l)ronzed and \veather-l>eaten l>efore he was thirty, loved to 
have these little dames nestling at his side It \v.is so through life. In the most critical week of 
his I'residency. that in wliich the IJriti.sh treatv was decided — the second week M .August, 17(15 — 
Wa-shington wcnl u, t\\v In. use of Uandolph, Secretary .if st.iii-, and pl.iyeil with his liiiK 
daughters." 

However, between the common sense and firmness of the two 
grandparents, between the outdoor and indoor life, between duties 




GKORC.E \V.\sm.\i;ri>N I'ARKK Cl'STIS. 
{ II 'htn a ycung mitn ; from a miHiaturt on ivory trwt 
GfH. Ctutii Lit.) 



THE FAMILY OF GEORGE WASHINGTON. 



51 



and pleasures, the children grew up healthful and strong, with good 
educations and good constitutions, and each lived to be more than 
threescore and ten. 

Of Washington's own life at Mount Vernon, his latest and 
ablest biographer, Mr. Henry Cabot Lodge, writes very interest- 
ingly ; he is referring to the period that intervened between his 
marriage with Mrs. Custis and the Revolution, but what he says is 
equally true of him at any period of his prime — and physically 
and mentally, compared with other men, Washington was at his 
prime up to the time of his death. Mr. Lodge says: 

'• Take it for all in all, it was a manly, wholesome, many-sided life. It kept Washington young 
and strong, both mentally and physically. When he was forty he flung the iron bar, at some village 
sports, to a point which no competitor could approach. There was no man in all Virginia who 




NtLl.lE L'USTIS'S RUUM AT MOUNT VEKNuN, AS " RESTClKEl). " 

could ride a horse with such a powerful and assured seat. There was no one who could journey 
farther on foot. . . .\s with the body so with the mind. He never rusted. A practical car- 

penter and smith, he brought the same quiet intelligence and firm will to the forging of iron or the 



52 



THK JAM 1 1, y Ol- GEOKIU: UASHIXGTON. 



felling and sawing of trees that he had displayed in fighting France. The life of a country gen- 
tleman did nut dull ur stupefy him, or lead him to gross indulgences. He remained well made and 
athletic, strung and enduring, keen in perception and in sense, and warm in his feelings and affec- 
tions. Many men would have lieconie lu-.nv .iml ns.-l,->s in ihe.se years of quiet country life, but 
Washington simply ripened." 

Mrs. Washington's children enjoyed ease and luxury, but it was 
reserved for her grandchildren to share in the great honors of 
state conferred on their grandfather. General Washington had 
hoped to spend the remainder of his years at Mount Vernon. He 
enjoyed agriculture, the raising of grain, the planting of trees, the 
improvement of stock, delighted in rural pleasures, loved home and 
the family life, and was an ideal " lord of the manor." Personal 
ambition, such as ct>nciuerors know — though he had done and 
was to do " as great work as has fallen to the lot of man " — was 
foreign to his nature. 

But on an afternoon in mid-.\pril, 17S9, there alighted at IIk 
gates of Mount X'ernon one Charles Thompson, a messenger from 
Congress, to formally announce to General Washington that he ha ! 
been elected President of the United States. General Washing- 
ton and his wife were not unexpectant of this. Little Nellie, aged 
eleven and the " claver b<>v " of nine, however, might have been sur- 
prised, for such was the dignity of their grandfather in his relations 
to public affairs that it is probable he had not spoken of the grave 
correspondence during the winter in which the statesmen of the 
country had pressed upon him the conviction of the people that he 
was the man of all best fitted to rule the new nation. He had 
acceded at last, with no juv. no elation. Of course it now had to 
be made known to the children that their grandfather was going 
away again from Mount \'ernon, this time to be the ruler of the land. 
We can imagine their excitement, their wonder. 



THE FAAflLY OF GEORGE WASHIXGrO.Y. 



53 



On the sixteenth, witli the messengers from Congress, he set 
out, anxious and grave, for the capital — New York City was 
then the seat of government ; for eleven years the Presidents lived 
in New York or in Philadelphia. No President since has 
made so splendid an inaugural journey. At his very gates his 
neighbors met him ; men, women and children, they went with him 
to Georgetown, where the citizens en fjtasse were standing on the 
banks of the Pot(Mnac to receive him, and thus one city after 
another, one State after another, met and received and went 
onward with him ; it was through laurel arches, with the bravest 
and best of the land riding at his side, multitudes meeting him 
with banners and flowers, huzzas and songs. Then came the 
inauguration in New York, the most joyous festival the American 
nation has ever known ; once only has the gratitude of the people 
rolled with a deeper surge — in 1S65, when peace was assured at 
the close of the Civil War. 

The Mount Vernon family heard the accounts of the pageant 
by slow mails and returning townsmen and travelers. The house- 
hold was busy making ready for the departure northward of 
" Mistress President of the United States," as a diarist of the day 
quaintly termed Mrs. Washington. There was much packing 
for the New York home of pictures, curtains, china and silver. 
The family plate was to be melted and re-cast into dishes of more 
elegant form. New " cloathes " were making for them all, for Miss 
Nellie and Master Washington were to go. Mrs. Washington, as we 
know, liked best to dress in simple white, but as the President's 
wife she wore, we are told, " what fashion required." 

Mrs. Washington with the children set out in her own carriage 
about the middle of May. The}', too, had a triumphal progress. 



54 



Tin: lAMII.y OF CKORGI: WASJIINCTON. 




I lib U A-iUINt.luN I'LW I.N illki.>l I III 
ALEXANIiRlA. 



Much t(i tin- cU'lii;ht of Nellie and lur hrnther iIkic were great 
firo-works for tlieni in Haltiir.orc and Philadelphia. Troops came 

and rode at the side of their 
carriage. All the cannon 
were fired and all the bells 
were rung and all the 
bands played. I'lowers 
were strewn before them. 
The Cabinet ladies came 
to meet Mrs. Washington. 
Some of the people spoke 
to the children of their 
grandfather's " Court " and 
their grandfather's "Palace." Then as they neared New York 
City their dear grandfather himself, with many distinguished 
gentlemen, came to receive them, and all the gay noise and parade 
increased, horsemen rode to and fro, and banners waved, and the 
air was thick with flowers. New York Bay was covered by beauti- 
ful boats with captains in gay uniforms, and they crossed with 
their grandparents in a splendid barge, and then the whole city 
" rose at them." What other children, before or since, were ever 
cynosures in such a great, beautiful, spontaneous pageant ? 

Their house, the first one they lived in — there were two or 
three occupied in New York as Executive Mansions — stood in 
what is now known as Franklin Square, not far from Harper 
Brothers' publishing house. It overlooked the Hay and Long 
Island and charming river scenery. P.ut after the magic gilding 
of nf)velty wore off and they began to lire of fine company, and 
of making their statelv bows and curtesies and of receiving 



THE FAMILY OF GEORGE WASHTNGTON. 



55 



flattering compliments, they longed for Mount Vernon and a good 
scamper up and down the old river-portico. Their grandmother, 
at heart, was no more contented than they. She writes to her 
sister Fanny that she leads a very dull life, that she is " more like 
a state prisoner than anything else." She says, " there are certain 
bounds for me which I must not depart from." 

But this was in secret. Mrs. Washington took her place as 
First Lady of the Land and held her full-dress levees like a c|ueen, 
where the President always received at her side. She is said to 
have been statuesque, stately, to have shown a wonderful discretion 
in all things, to have been " absolutely colorless as a social leader 
and a woman of affairs, and 
permitting no political dis- 
cussions in her presence." 

Perhaps, with the children, 
she best enjoyed the long 
drives in the chariot-and-si.x. 
Very often they drove over 
the beautiful Bloomingdale 
Road. Once the children 
went to visit the battle-field 
of Harlem Heights; they 
had fine company — there 
were President and Mrs. 
Washington, and Vice-Presi- 
dent John Adams and Mrs. Abigail Adams, and Thomas 
Jefferson and Alexander Hamilton and Mrs. Hamilton and other 
courtly men and lovely ladies. Master and Miss Custis are often 
mentioned in the President's diary kept in New York as driving 




THE UASHlNCiTON FAMILY BIBLK, NOW AT CHRIST 
CHURCH, ALEXANDRIA. 



56 Tffl-' lA.U// y OF GF.OKGR IVASIfJXGTOX. 

with him — " wu went the fourtfcn-milc-rouiul." he says, ami that 
was the Hloomingclalc Road. 

The stables were full of fine creatures, and no doubt Nellie and 
her brother were often perniittetl to go in with the General and 
pet the beauties, and perhaps have a gay romjj, maybe to climb uj) 
into the state-coach to sit. This was a wonderful fairy-tale sort of 
vehicle. It was cream color, with foiu' copper medallions on the 
panels, each by a famous Italian artist, and there were Cupids with 
flowers painted around the medallions. But the horses for this 
chariot were the objects of Nellie's greatest admiration. The tall, 
white, fiery creatures, sixteen hands high, were done up over night 
in white paste, like a fine beauty's face, a compound which left 
their coats as glossy as white satin — a proceeding not uncommon ; 
if, after grooming, their coats soiled a white handkerchief as it was 
passed over, it is said that the stable-boys were tied up and whipped. 
Their hoofs were blacked and polished every day, and their teeth 
brushed. The harnesses were of leopard skin. The coachman 
and footmen wore liveries of white trimmed with scarlet or orange 
— a gorgeous turn-nut. 

They loved color in those old days. There is an "order " sent 
to London bv Washington, for a riding coat of handsome drab 
broadcloth with double gilt buttons, and a riding-waistcoat of 
superfine scarlet cloth with gold lace and buttons. Men wore 
gayer, fuller colors than the fair members of their families, and 
their shirt bosoms were rufHed with lace and lawn. .\t the state 
dinners in New York at her grandfather's house Nellie used to .see 
Mr. Thomas Jefferson come in, smiling and debonair, in red waist- 
coat and red breeches. 

Nellie was no longer a little girl when the Mount X'ernon 




KI.IZAHETH TAKKK 
(J/ri. U'ashtit;^ton's granddaJtglitt', 



PaiuUd by Pine.) 



THE FAMILY OF GEORGE WASHINGTON. 



59 




WOODLW N 
of Nellie Cjistis a/ler her marriage with La 



family at last came from Philadelphia to settle down at home. She 
was nineteen then, and in the dewy fullness of all her wild-rose 
beauty, a merry girl still, loving her grandfather with all her 
heart, and happy beyond 
expression that he was no 
longer the President of the 
United States. 

Before her there was 
constantly passing a train 
of suitors. But her heart 
was never touched by any 
man excepting the one she 
married. The General was 
in all her confidences ; her books, her beaux, her gowns, her good 
times — he had an ear for all Miss Nellie's thoughts about them, 
grave or gay, and probably he saved her some mistakes. 

But no doubt both her grandparents finally grew exceedingly 
anxious as to her choice of a husband. They each had their favor- 
ite in view. On his return to Mount Vernon General Washington 
had invited his sister Betty's son, young Lawrence Lewis, to come 
into the family as his private secretary — there is extant, by the 
way, the letter* in which the young man accepts the post; it runs 
quaintly, as follows: 

Fauquier Co., 
////]' 24tli, 1797. 
My dear Sir . 

I return you my sincere thanks for the kind invitation I received when last at Mount \'ernon 
to make it my home, and that whilst there my services would be acceptable. This invitation was 
the more pleasing to me from a desire of being serviceable to you and from a hope in fulfilling those 
duties assigned me I should derive some improvement by them. 

* In possession of William .Mexander .Smith, New York City. 



6o iHE FAMILY OF G FORGE U'ASIIIXGI OX. 

I'ntulorcd in almost every branch of business, I can only promise a ready and willing ol>edi- 
ence to any instruction or command you may plcaiie to give. ! should have been with you ere 
this, but for the unavoidable detention by my servant's running away, and that at a time when I 
was nearly ready for my departure. I have been ever since in pursuit of hira without success. 
The uncertainty of getting a servant or my runaway will probably detain me until 25th of August, 
bill mil .\ monit'iil liini.'i'r than is unavoidable. 

W ith sincere regard for my .Aunt, and family 

I remain, your affectionate Nephew, 

Lawkk.si.k l.KWIS. 

Gf.n. GroRi-.F. \V,\shin(;ton. 

J Kndorsed by Washington 1 

I " Krom Mr. I^wrence Lewis, ;4th July, 1797." ' 

This voLinu; SL'crctary maclL' it one of his first " duties " to fall 
in love with his vivacious foster-cousin, but her grandmother dis- 
approved of his attentions, or rather preferred a Mr. Carroll who 
had just returned from Europe and was finely educated and 
polished from travel. After a little struggle the General and 
Nellie carried the day, and Nellie became Mrs. Lewis on Washing- 
ton's birthday, i 799. 

Her husband's rank was that of Major, and Nellie requested 
all her friends who were in official position to wear at the wedding 
the splendid embroidered uniforms which the general officers had 
adopted. All acquiesced, save her grandfather who preferred the 
old Continental blue-and-bufT and the modest black ribbon cockade. 

Nellie's own New York and Philadelphia friends came down 
to Mount \'ernon, and many of (ienerai Washington's stately old 
comrades and officers, and it is not exaggeration to say that there 
never has been a wedding since then in the United States where 
there were as nianv feathers and laces or such a quantity of tinsel 
and buttons, as much pomp and show or more courtly ceremony, 
and that Nellie's grandfather in the plain old uniform was the 
most imposing figure in all the groups of the gay scene. 



THE FAMILY OF GEORGE U'ASHEXGTON. 



6l 



As on the battlefield, he made the impression of heroic size 
and strength. An old Revolutionary captain has left in a letter a 
full-length portrait of him, with the familiar everyday daylight full 
upon it, and it strikes the imagination more powerfully than any of 
the painted portraits. He says : 

" Washington had a large, thick nose, and it was very red that day [three days before cross- 
ing the Delaware], giving me the impression that he was not so moderate in the use of liquors as 
he was supposed to be. I found afterward that this was a peculiarity. His nose was apt to turn 
scarlet in a cold wind. He was standing near a small 
camp-fire, evidently lost in thought and making no 
effort to keep warm. He seemed si.\ feet and a half 
in height, was as erect as an Indian, and did not for 
a moment relax from a military attitude. Washing- 
ton's exact height was six feet two inches in his 
boots. He was then a little lame from striking his 
knee against a tree. His eye was so gray that it 
looked almost white and he had a troubled look on 
his colorless face. He had a piece of woollen tied 
around his throat and was quite hoarse. Perhaps 
the throat trouble from which he finally died had its 
origin about then. Washington's boots were enor- 
mous. They were No. 13. His ordinary walking- 
shoes were No. II. His hands were large in propor- 
tion, and he could not buy a glove to fit him and 
had to have his gloves made to order. His mouth 
was his strong feature, the lips being always tightly 
compressed. That day they were compressed so 
tightly as to be painful to look at. At that time he 

weighed two hundred pounds, and there was no surplus flesh about him. 
muscled, and the fame of his great strength was everywhere." 




M-TEKWARD MRS. I'tlEKS 



{granddaughter of Mrs. Washington, 
ing owned by her daughter, Mrs. 



From paint- 
i'cnnon.) 



He was tremendously 



The General presented his nephew with an estate of two thou- 
sand acres near Mount Vernon. A pleasant house was built upon 
it. and the place was known as " Woodlawn." Nellie and her hus- 
band lived there many years. But during her grandfather's life- 
time they resided at Mount Vernon. " At his death," I\Irs. Harri- 



62 



TIIK J-.l.\f//.y OJ-' GKOKiiE UASIIIXGTOX. 



SDii says, " his favorite Nellie, witli her new-horn babe bc>icle her, 
lav in her chamber at Mount Vernon." 

The baby grandchildren, the children of Nellie's sisters, Eliza- 
beth and Martha, had always been much at Mount Vernon and 
\\ashini;ton was fond of them all. A daughter of Martha, still 
living, the widow of Commodore Kennon, relates that when her 
elder sister was a baby Washington used to walk with her to teach 
her to take her first steps, and that her hand was so small it could 
hardlv clasp about his great finger, and that thus, she holding to 
his finger, they used to pace the Mount Vernon porch. He bought 
her a beautiful little whistle and rattle-box combined, the handle a 
solid i)iece of exquisite rose coral. He used to love to see her 
manipulate that, and upon the coral handle she cut her teeth. 

- Nellie had f*Hir children, Lorenzo and Farke, .Angela and Agnes. 
In their company from the home at Woodlawn she again went to 
the old Pohick church of her childhood, instead of Christ Church 

at .Alexandria where during 
later years the Washington 
family had been regular at- 
tendants ; and where the 
Washington iiew, square and 

WHISTLE ANP RATTI.F. OF ROSE CORAU ... 

i,Gktn by Haihingum to iht h.ihy ihiUrtH f/ Mr, Marik., quaiut, is stdl prcscrvcd in its 

Cuilii Frlm, Ihi'iuJ by Mri. A'tmuni. ) .... i i i r 

original form. In the days ot 
the Custis children the .se.vton was a woman, who not only showed 
people to their seats, but locked them in, and patrolled the aisles 
afterwards, seeing that the old folk were awake and the young ones 
behaving. 

Mrs. Lewis lived to be .seventy-four. She retained her charm 
of manner and beauty of face through her life. Mrs. Richartl 




THE FAMILY OF GEORGE WASHINGTON. 




"MARTHA WASHINGTON CHINA."* 



Cutts (a niece of Dolly Madison) who saw her often at Arlington, 
and in Washington at Mrs. Madison's, sjDeaks of her as a " very 
handsome old lady with gray hair and a 
most beautiful black eye." She grew 
fond of books, and her interest in " fancy 
work amounted "' to a passion. Her 
niece, Mrs. Kennon, Martha's daughter 
(Martha became Mrs. Peters), says she 
would work at one kind until she 
seemed to exhaust her resources and all 
the patterns, and then she would take 
up another. A piece of old-fashioned 
crewel-work which she did when an old woman, hangs framed at 
Mrs. Kennon's, with a slip of her writing. All the nieces loved 
" Aunt Lewis " and she was 
prone to give them keep- 
sakes. 

She retained her spright- 
liness, too, as well as her 
beauty. A great-grand- 
daughter of President Jef- 
ferson (Mrs. Ellen Harrison) 
says in a recent letter: " As 
for Nellie Custis, I knew her 
as a very old lady. I was pres- 
ent when she came, full of vigor in mind and body, to pay a farewell 
visit to her old schoolmate, Mrs, Bennett Taylor, the oldest daughter 

•Once belonged to Mrs. Nellie Custis Lewis, Now owned by Mrs. Kennon, widow of Cmimodore Kennon. 
U, S, N., granddaughter of Mrs. Martha Custis Peters. It belonged to the set presented to Mrs. Washington by the 
Marquis de Lafayette, of which each piece contained the names of the thirteen States. 




WASHINGTON SALAD-BOWL. 

{O-.u'ied l.y Mrs. Kcma; ) 



64 



THi-. r.iAfjj) OF aKOKHK uasiu.\'(;to\. 



of tiovcrnor lulmuiul Raiulolph. Mrs. Ta^lor'.s niiiul was fast 
failiiii;. but wln-n Mrs. Lewis said in a strong licarty tone, ' Why, 

Susan, don't you know nic ? ' she 
^lapped at her and said, • Oli ! go away, 
Xcllie Custis, you know you were 
always as bad as you could be I' 
Mrs. Lewis replied, laughing, ' O, yes! 
but I am good now.' " 

After her husband's death she lived 
al .\udley, Clarke Co., X'irginia, "beau- 
tiful always and cherished by a large 
family of children and grandchildren." 
says Mrs. Burton Harrison in the 
W'iDi; .Vw.\KK magazine. "From a 
cousin in V^irginia, wlio in boyhotjd 
spent some time beneath her roof, 
and to whom she wrote many letters, 1 have this reminiscence: 




;■- Nlll.M 1 1 >n^ I.1.U1S llll.N ' 
(Ovmtd by her Muce^ Airs. KtHturH ) 



• I \v.i» a mere lad. about twelve or fourteen, wtieii I knew her best, but I never have forgotten 
that dear and charming lady. I remember her way of winning confidence from us, her conscien- 
tious goodness, her bright spirits. When, at table, she began to speak, so brilliant was her flow 
of conversation, that all stopped to listen. Her subsecjuent letters to mc, imfortunately lost 
during the war, were a boon to a growing youth, susceptible of gracious influence.' 



'■ This gentleman has two daguerreotypes, soft and fascinating 
in tone, but now alas ! faded hopelessly ; one from her portrait 
representing Lleanor Lewis as a bride, the other from life show- 
ing her as an aged woman. I well remember that from this 
latter picture 1 derived my own first knowledge that an old jxTson 
could be beautiful. It is like the finest carviivj in ivorv: the 



THE FAMILY OF GEORGE WASHINGTON. 



65 



clear-cut features and soft dark eyes hardly touched by Time's 
destroying finger." 

She died in 1S52. She is buried at Mount Vernon, where she 
passed her happy young years, very near her grandfather and 
grandmother. Her monument is at the left of the tomb where lie 
the General and his wife. 

Nellie's brother, Washington, the " claver boy," was at Prince- 
ton while his father was President. Many of the letters which 
passed between father and son have been published. They are so 
like the hundreds of letters which fathers and sons are receiving 
to-day that they are not of especial interest. The President cau- 
tions him to study, and the youth studies very little. He warns 
him against being extravagant, and the youth, thoughtless in his 
expenditures, finds himself needing extra funds. The father in- 
closes the necessary sum, and the boy explains that he regrets hav- 
ing to ask for it, but unless he is " stingy " and does not do his 
share in entertaining he will have to use more than seems neces- 
sary to his friends at home. The father writes little lectures on 
idleness and vice, and the son respects the father, does nothing dis- 
graceful and nothing remarkable. During that time Dr. Smith, a 
clergyman, informed the President that Washington was lazy and 
received a reply from General Washington that from his infancy 
he had been indolent in everything which did not tend to his 
amusement. At one time in discouragement, he wrote, says Mr. 
Conway, to the step-father. Dr. Stuart : " If you, or Mrs. Stuart, 
could by any indirect means discover the state of Washington 
Custis's mind it would be to be wished. He appears to me to be 
moped and stupid." 



66 



THE lAM/LY Ol- GKOKGK WASHJXGTOX. 



The young man continued at I'rinrcton a year or two, going 
thence to Annapolis in i 79S. lie applied himself more closely in 
his new school, but still was constantly in need of money. How- 





EMBROIDERY 1)Y MRS. NKLMK CUSTIS LEWIS, WITH AUTOliRAl'H INSCRirilO.N. 

ever, he gave satisfaction at home and all were rejoicing that he 
was upon the right road when they received word that he had 



THE FAMILY OF GEORGE WASHINGTON. 67 

fallen in love and was spending much time away from school. The 
young man had become enamored of a young lady who lived in 
Alexandria, had told her of his affection, had explained his financial 
condition, and had hoped for an engagement which, with the agree- 
ment of both families, would be consummated at some future day. 
But the young lady did not accede to his proposal, for what reason 
we are not told. His letter to his father explaining the circum- 
stances is a very manly one indeed and doubtless was well received. 
Afterwards, at the age of twenty-three, he married Miss Mary Lee 
Fitzhugh, a very accomplished and charming woman. 

He developed into a man of taste. His fortune was large. At 
his beautiful home, Arlington, in Washington, he passed through 
a lifetime of elegant leisure. He wrote plays and poetry, contrib- 
uted to newspapers and compiled some books. His most note- 
worthy and valuable work is, however. The Life and Letters of 
Washington. He was fond of music and painting. The latter 
pursuit was especially enjoyable. He had held in early life a 
commission in the army, and in middle life, or perhaps later, he 
painted battle-scenes which were true in every delineation of 
history, but lacked color and drawing to make them valuable. 
Many of these paintings were at Arlington up to the time of 
the Civil War — enormous canvases where the soldiers in the 
battle scenes were of more than life-size; eight feet in height, 
perhaps. One who remembers the paintings in all their Titanic 
proportions (as she often used to be at Arlington, sleeping, all 
unvisited by ghosts, upon the bedstead upon which President 
Washington died) says there was one painting there with a story. 
On this canvas was delineated Washington and his war-horse — 
" Nelson " whom the artist when a child used to pet at Mount 



68 '^^iJ'^ J- AMI I y 01- (,/:OA(;j-: uasj//\gjox. 

\'cinon. Man and steed were of colossal proportions. This paint- 
ing Mr. Ciistis designed as a gift to his country, and he sent it to 
Congress, where it remained for months in the Caj)itol, the gift 
unacted upon. It finally was returned, and it is said that the 
mortified artist gave orders that it should be accidentally tijjped 
into the Potomac in transit, but that .Mrs. Custis gave after-orders 
that it should be brought safely to Arlington, where it was to be 
seen up to the time when the family left the estate. 

Mr. Custis was a man of wide reading. His oratory was fine, 
his voice musical, and the speeches which he delivered would fill 
volumes. He was devoted to the memory of Washington; he 
gave him a son's love, living and dead; he placed a memorial 
stone on the site of his birthplace, and courteously welcomed to 
Arlington the throngs of visitors, high and low, who came to take 
by the hand a man who had been so peculiarly near and dear to 
Washington, and genially answered the millions of questions con- 
cerning Mount Vernon and the life of its famous inmates. 

He died October lo, 1S57, "the last male representative of his 
family." His beautiful daughter became the wife of General 
Robert E. Lee, and her sons own the paintings and memorials of 
the Custis family. His estate, Arlington, confiscated by the U. S. 
Government in the Civil War and made the National Burying- 
ground of the soldiers, was afterwards decided in court to be the 
property of his descendants, and bv them it was sold to the U. S. 
Government. 

Mount Vernon, the common home of all these children and 
grandchildren and great-grandchildren, is no longer owned by the 
family, but by an incorporated body, an association of ladies known 
as " The Mount Vernon Ladies Association of the Union," who 



THE FAMILY OF GEORGE WASHINGTON. 69 

represent every section of the country. The lawns and gardens, 
buildings and rooms have been put in order and " restored " as far as 
possible. Many relics and articles once belonging to the Wash- 
ington family have been given to the association or been other- 
wise obtained, and it is hoped that in the course of years many 
others will find their way back to Mount Vernon, their natural and 
proper treasure-home ; for one can conceive of no period when the 
place shall not be daily visited by both Americans and foreigners, 
pilgrims to the home and tomb of " the noblest figure that ever 
stood in the forefront of a nation's life." 



THE FAMILY OF JOHN ADAMS. 



THE FAMILY OF JOHN ADAMS. 



CHAPTER I. 



IN QUINCY. 




GREAT was the contrast in the manner of 
living between the family of George 
Washington and that of John Adams, our 
second President. 

Young Mrs. Washington came to Mount 
Vernon the mistress of a fortune, and from 
a home where luxury had prevailed. Colonel 
Washington had long been accustomed to the 
gaieties and elegances of society that was 
English and baronial in its tone. The young 
Custises, as we have seen, were from the begin- 
ning surrounded by all the luxuries of their day. They rode in 
fine equipages. They were dressed after dainty foreign fashions; 
their "orders" filled at. the best London shops. They were 
waited upon by slaves. They ate of the choicest the world 
afforded. Wines were always before them, and it is safe to say 
that cards played for money was not an uncommon sight. 

Little that savored of rank and the mother-country attended 

73 ' 



NIGHTCAP. 



{Worn by John Adams w/ien a 
child. In possession o/hisgrcat- 
great-graiiddaughtcr , Mrs. 
n. C. Woods, Balti- 
more, Maryland.) 



-^ THE J-AMILV or JOn.\ A1K4MS. 

upon the Adams liDiischolds. TIk- Adamses of the earlier colo- 
nial days were respectable, but in nu wise distinguished. The 
father of John Adams was a farmer of moderate means, and John 
was born in a little red one-story house that pilgrims may still 
visit, just out of Quincy, Mass., on the Braintree road. His 
mother was a gentlewoman, of the Boylston family, John Quincy 
Adams, in 1N31, writing to Miss Eliza Susan Quincy describes his 
creation of the " Adams quarter " of an armorial " book-label " he 
had had designed. He says: 

•' The book label contains the armorial hearings, brought with ihein from England, by my 
ancestors of the families of Itoylslun, Smith .ind Quincy — that is, of my father's mother, and of 
my mother's father and mother. My father's paternal ancestors did not, to my knowledge, bring 
with them any armorial liearings. They were of gentle blood, but not of that cla.ss whose 'suc- 
cessors who went before them, and whose ancestors that came after them, have for any time these 
three hundred years, written themselves down Armigero.' Instead, therefore, of borrowing a coat 
from another family of the same name, and with which any book of heraldry would have supplied 
me, I have placed in my father's quarter, a device of his own invention, engraved immediately alter 
the signature of the treaty of Peace, which closed the war of our Independence, and having allusion 
to that event. The motto also is of his selection — taken from Tacitus. I have inscribed it al.so 
on his monument in the church at Quincy, and wi.sh it may be a memento for his children's 
children, forever." 

Some one has said that " in a strictly national sense the Adams 
family is the oldest and most remarkable of .American historical 
families;" but though eight generations preceded him on American 
soil, it is John, the child of the little red house on the country 
road, that is always spoken of as "the first .Vd.ims:'" the histor- 
ical interest begins with him. He grew up and demanded an 
education, and attended at Harvard College. He graduated 
in 1755, and at twentv-three was a lawyer in practice. It is the 
popular fashion to regard John .\dams as a blunt and unpolished 



THE FAMILY OF JOHN ADAMS. 



75 



man, original and sturdy, but not the peer in culture of Washing- 
ton and Jefferson, Madison and Monroe. On the contrary, Presi- 
dent Adams had a profound interest in all learning. He him- 
self writes, " I have spent an estate in books." And one who 
knew, said that 

" he was a classical scholar of high rank and a hard student all his life. His library teemed 
with old folios in the learned languages, and grave legal and historical works in Italian and French. 
He was thorough going in whatever he undertook and investigated everything for himself." 




BIRTHPLACES OF JOHN AD.\MS AND JOHN QUINCY ADAMS. 

{At Qitincy, Mass. John Adams was born in house at righi. in upper right-hand /rout room ; 

John Qidmy Adams in house at left.) 

As we have seen, one of his earliest acts was the acquirement 
of the best education at hand, and, as we are to see, one of his 
latest was the founding of an institution of learning. 

However, at thirty, young Adams was not yet a signer of the 
Declaration of Independence, Member of Congress, Minister to 
Great Britain, President of the United States ; and when he 



j6 THE J'AMIIA OJ-JOJ/X .4J>.L\fS. 

proposed for the hand of Miss Abigail Smith of Weymouth 
he was considered most presumptuous ; and when she accepted him 
she was severely criticised by the towns-])cople generally as not 
taking her equal. Was she not a descendant of the Quincys? 
Was not her father the minister? 

Xow, in those days and in New England, especially in Massa- 
chusetts, just as the Southern planter was the aristocrat of his 
section, so was the Puritan minister of his. His congregation 
obeyed and reverenced him. He was the first guest invited to any 
gathering and occupied a conspicuous seat. He was consulted upon 
domestic affairs, even prescribing in cases of sickness. He opened 
public meetings with prayer and decided what would better be 
discussed and what be let alone. His family partook to a great 
degree oif the reverence paid him, and each and all were more or 
less august individuals. Moreover, in this particular case, the 
daughter under discussion was a remarkably superior young 
person, very fair to look upon, of high bearing, already showing 
character. The match was loudly pronounced unsuitable and 
to be '■ broken up." Added to his grievous lack of property 
and aristocratic standing, Mr. John Adams had chosen law as 
a profession. Lawyers were then, among religious people, con- 
sidered to be a (luestionable class of nun. 

Public opinion, however, did not change Miss .Abigail's mind ; 
and when in October, 1764, she became Mrs. Adams, her father 
preached a sermon which had some bearing upon the spirit of 
gossip among his parishioners. This was his text: 

" For John cauic luitlicr eating bread nor drinking wine, and ye 
say he hath a devil'' 

.As time went on, this particular John failed to manifest any 




NIK--. IMIIN .M>\\l 
f lit,- ;^iittl madf at ahout tk* tin 



,//„■. ,-,.,rr,„iv) 




e panel iiuide at about tlu- ti:uc cf lus :i:arr,age.) 



THE FAMIL Y OF JOHN ADAMS. 8 1 

signs of having a devil ; instead he began to lead public opinion 
in all his section of country, and the Congregational minister grew 
fond of his son-in-law and of the four children who were born 
to him in the first ten years of his married life. 

But being "fond" does not mean that the ministerial grand- 
father rollicked and told funny stories or played ball with Mr. 
John Adams's children ; not at all. He held them in his lap, and 
assisted in their education, relating to them tales of the early 
settlers' experiences. For the people of that day and section were 
the most solemn of mortals. They seldom laughed, or addressed 
the members of the family by pet names. Children were admon- 
ished that the life on earth was a training-school in which they 
were to prepare for another world, and the more severe the disci- 
pline and application to work, the better prepared they would be 
to enjoy the heavenly home. 

This habit of looking at life caused people to appear cold and 
unworldly. It made them stern and exacting with their children ; 
nevertheless I think we may believe that the good cheer and 
prattle of the grandchildren of Mr. Smith often set his old heart 
beating and filled him with more pride and happiness than he 
chose to exhibit or acknowledge. 

The published letters of the John Adams family, the most 
interesting epistolary writing of the period, strike one by their 
quaint formality. The mother, no matter how long the father was 
absent, addresses him as " my dearest friend ; " and instead of 
relating at any length the sayings and doings of their little family 
she discusses the political situation through many pages. The 
little daughter. Miss Abigail, a beautiful young woman in after- 
life, according to the miniature by Copley, in a stately way 



82 



THE FAMILY OF JO IIX ADAMS. 




SII.VEK CKFAMtK OWNKI 
IIV JLIHN ADAMS. 



requests her motlicr to convey her "duty"' to Ikt father; in the 
years to come, so late as 1795, when Mrs. Adams has grown-up 
sons, we shall find her obliged to correct the inbred formality of 
one of them, Thomas Boylston, bidding him 
to address her as "mother, " not as " madame. " 

We may partially explain the cold manner 
of expression by the fact that letters in those 
days were liable to fall into other hands than 
those for whom they were intended. Yet Wash- 
ington and Jefferson at this time were writing 
and receiving tender notes from members of 
their families abounding in the " littic-names " and expressions 
of love. No, the reason lies in the i^eculiar training of the 
Massachusetts colonists; a vigorous discipline of both act and 
speech which resulted in establishing so firm a foundation for 
character that whereas the families of most of the great men of 
the last century are now unknown to the world at large, the 
great-great-grandchildren of John Adams are as able and as 
incorruptible as was he — men "that have a hold both on the 
minds and the imaginations of Americans." 

When the first gun of the Revolution was fired, in 1775, the 
little Adams children were with their mother at Hraintree, after- 
wards called Ouincv. They had been living in Boston, but the 
British occupancy of the city had driven them out. Mr. .Adams 
was in Congress which was in session at Philadelphia. That was 
hi> post of duty, and the best l)e could do for his family was to 
write home to his wife to " fly to the woods with the children" 
should the British attack them. 

While the lightnings of debate flashed blindingly in the halls 




\zotint engraving o/t/u- Portrait by Copley ^ painted in England at t 
i/te original was destroyed by Jire in 1857.) 



THE FAMIL V OF JOHN ADAMS. 



85 



where John Adams was the most arrant and determined rebel of 
the indignant little crowd of patriots, the thunder of actual battle 
was raging around Mrs. Adams's humble doors. She had but to 
climb Penn's Hill to see, literally, American liberty in process 
of making. One hot, clear June day, clambering up near the 
summit where is now the great iron water-works reservoir, the 
little John Ouincy and Abigail at her side, she looked across the 
bay and saw Charlestown burn and the lurid smoke of Bunker 
Hill. We have descriptions from the pens of both Mrs. Adams 
and the little eight-year-old boy. Mrs. Adams wrote : 



" The battle began upon our intrenchments upon Bunker Hill, Saturday morning, about three 
o'clock, and has not ceased yet, and it is now three o'clock Sabbath afternoon. Charlestown is 
laid in ashes. It is expected they will come out over the Neck to-night and a dreadful battle must 
ensue. . . How many have fallen we know not. The constant war of the cannon is so distressing 
that we cannot eat, drink or sleep. My bursting heart must find vent at my pen." 



Little John Ouincy writes 
later : 

"The year 1775 was the eighth year 
of my age. . . . Among the first 
fruits of the War was the expulsion of 
my father's family from their peaceful 
abode in Boston to take refuge in his 
and my native town of Braintree. . 
For the space of twelve months my 
mother with her infant children dwelt 
liable every hour of the day and of 
the night to be butchered in cold blood. 

. . . of being consumed with them all in a conflagration kindled by a torch in the .same hands 
which on the seventeenth of June lighted the fires of Charlestown. I saw with my own eyes those 
fires, . . . and witnessed the tears of my mother and mingled with them my own at the fall of 
Warren, a dear friend of my father and a beloved physician to me. He had been our family 
physician and surgeon, and had saved my forefinger from amputation under a very bad fracture." 




CKAULt IN WHICH JOHN ADAMS AND JuHN (jUINCY 
ADAMS WERE ROCKED. 



S6 



THE J-.IMILY OF JOJIX ADAMS. 



On a bleak Marcli day they again climbed the hill and wit- 
nessed the storming of Dorchester Heights. This time Mrs. 

.Vdanis says : 




^7^ Baby 
^^5«i; CUtK 



" I have just ri.-turncd from Tcnn's 
Hill where I have been sitting to hear 
ilie amazing roar of cannon and from 
whence I could see every shell that was 
thrown. I went to bed about twelve and 
rose again a little after one. I could no 
more sleep than if I had been in the en- 
gagement ; the rattling of the windows, 
the jar of the house, the continued roar 
of twcntyfour-pounders, and the burst 
ing of shells. About six thus morning 
there was quiet. I rejoiced in a few 
hours' calm. I hear we got possession 
of Dorchester Hill last night." 



/^rb John Adorns 
-^ for l,.r .on 



When the British evac- 
uated Boston the Adams 
family were on the hill-top 
* ;/, as usual, and saw the fleet 

of one hundred and seventy 
sail drop down the harbor. .Mrs. .\dams does not think the fight 
is over, but she is convinced of her countrymen's pluck, and hopes 
the British will have to pay " Bunker-Hill price " for every foot of 
American soil they get to themselves. 

These scenes remained vivid in the minds of the Adams 
children throughout life. They remembered, too, the pestilence 
which followed upon the battles and swept away whole families, 
and in their own household they nursed one another as best they 
could. During the Revolution they lived in the most frugal way. 
Often, on account of the blockade, and the patroling of the country 




JOHN QUINCY AS A CHILD. 
( This 7vas the great-grasid/athcr , oit thi' mother's side, for ivhom John Quincy A davi 
The town- of Braintrce was rc-mimed Quhuy iii his honor. The painting 
iiangs in tJu old Charles Francis Adams house at Quincy.) 



THE FAMILY OF JOHN ADAMS. 89 

roads by British horsemen, or because there were none to go about 
and deliver food, they were denied even sufficient to safely subsist 
upon. Once they were four months without flour, and in one of 
Mrs. Adams's letters she says : " We shall soon have no coffee nor 
sugar nor pepper, but we will be content with whortleberries and 
milk." She adds, however, " I cannot wear leather if I go bare- 
foot," and begs for some " black calamanco " for shoes, and more 
than once cries out for pins — "not one pin to be purchased for 
love or money ; " and we find her forwarding stately thanks to 
some gallant acquaintance of Mr. Adams who has sent her " a 
bundle of pins." 

Mrs. Adams, though physically she might be so delicate that 
she could not "wear leather" was a woman of Spartan soul, a 
patriot mate for her husband, and the pair trained their sons in 
love for their country. The spirit of resistance to tyranny perme- 
ated the air the household breathed. The little boys, taught 
to write in their pinafore days, indited epistles of patriotism to 
their parent in Congress, addressing him as "sir." Mr. Adams 
says, "John writes like a hero, glowing with ardor for his country, 
and burning with indignation against her enemies." " Charles's 
young heroism charms me. Kiss him." 

Some writer of the time relates that just before Mr. Adams left 
home for Congress a company of Continental militia passed the 
night in Braintree and that the small John Ouincy was placed 
among the men by his father, given a musket, and instructed to 
go through the manual at the word of one of the- soldiers. Mr. 
Adams, no doubt, was highly gratified in gazing at this miniature 
rebel against King George. One of the company, years after- 
ward, called upon President John Ouincy Adams in Washington 



go IHl^ FAMJI.y OF JOHX ADAMS. 

atul rcinindcd him of tliat little military maiUL'Uvre. The boy 
received another sort of drill at his mother's hands. Every night, 
after the Lord's Prayer, said in bed, she taught him to repeat 
L\)llins"s patriotic Ode which begins : 

" How sleep the brave who sink to rest 
Ky all their country's wishes blest." 

This brave little Adams brood felt it no strange or dread thing 
to lose their lives, or endure hardships, or take risks in their 
country's time of troulile. To be patient and cheerful and 
obedient in the season of privation and danger was the part of 
patriotic children. Little John Quincy was installed to be the 
post-rider of the house, setting off whenever bidden, to go to and 
fro, horseback, between Boston and Braintree, eleven miles each 
way. with chances of capture or death all along; not nine years 
old was he then. 

.Abigail was the eldest of the John Adams children. She was 
carried to church in a chaise and baptized on the day of her birth, 
July 14, 1765. It is said that in looks she resembled her father 
in his youth. Her mother, writing of her to Mr. Adams, says, 
" your daughter, your image, your superscription." Copley paints 
her with an expression of cool self-poise and critical regard. It 
has been stated that she was her father's favorite, as John Quincy 
was his mother's; neither of these statements is probably true, 
for Mr. and Mrs. Adams were not the sort of parents to bestow 
all their love on a particular child — at least John Quincy spent 
much of his time with his father, whenever the country could 
spare him from her affair^, while Abigail was her mother's con- 
stant companion for twenty years. 



THE FAMILY OF JOHN ADAMS. 



91 



She was fairly educated. Her mother tells us it was not 
considered needful or sensible to educate daughters in the higher 
branches of book-learning, but they were expected to be most 




IKUM AND HACK CUVEKS OF A I 
KEPT BY JOHN QUINCY ADAJI 
WHEN A KOY. 
( Reduced atoiit one half. ) 



thoroughly trained in all domestic alTairs. The little Abigail's 
earliest duties were to rock her brother John Ouincy's cradle and 
to sing him to sleep. She gradually was promoted to practice 
housekeeping, worked her sampler and afterwards marked all the 
woollen and linen of the household in neat cross-stitch, and under- 



g2 THE lAMIlV OJ- JO//X ADAMS. 

stood darniiii!; upon lace and embroidery upon muslins and lawns. 
She probably could hem in short, even stitches, an art of which 
the girl of to-day is ignorant. Among the accomplishments of 
those days was letter-writing, and Abigail and her friends wrote 
very carefully-worded epistles during the week and carried them 
to church on Sunday and exchanged with one another. These 
letters were wholly unlike little girls' letters of our lime ; they 
were small essays, filled with religious sentiments. 

She learned economy in its strictest sense, such as very few 
people now practice. Even better than her brother, she remem- 
bered the lessons of the Revolution. As her mother's hand- 
maiden and companion, she daily saw forethought and saving 
brought into practice. She saw money carefully counted and 
apportioned, one intended purchase after another abandoned until 
only the fewest and the really indispensable things were bought ; 
she remembered when it took twelve Continental dollars to buy 
a pound of butter, twenty to buy a yard of linen and twenty to 
buy a gallon of molasses. 

She must have reached the period of young womanhood with 
a fine stock of patience, self-control, good judgment, knowledge 
of English and American public affairs, and many excellent 
ideas of what was right and what was wrong both in nations 
and individuals. She also had read several important works with 
her mother, and had an acquaintance with the English Classics, 
and may be considered to have been intelligent and informed 
bevond most of the young women of her time. 

The second of the John Adams children is the most widely 
known of the descendants of the Presidents. 

He was horn July ii, 1 767. and named John Ouincy for his 



THE FAMILY OP JOHN ADAMS. 



93 



great-grandfather who was a distinguished Congregational minister 
and a representative in the colonial legislature, being at one time 
its speaker. He was born on a Thursday or Friday, and his father 
carried him on Sunday morning to Weymouth to be baptized by 
his reverend grandfather, Mr. Smith. Nellie Custis, for instance, 
one always thinks of as a romping, laughing child, no matter how 
old one knows her to be. John Ouincy Adams's name always 
suggests the mature and serene statesman. Obedient and read)^ 
still as a child he was dreamy, meditative, curious, investigating.! 
He spent much of his time wandering about the woods of Braicf- 
rree alone, studying the habits of animals and the nature of plants, 
manifesting a love for reading — and withal was a strangely self- 
examining and self-repressing boy. He sets himself "stents" of 
study, and complains by letter to his father that his " thoughts 
are running after birds-eggs, play and tri- 
fles," and asks that gentleman to advise 
him " in writing " how to " proportion " 
his play and studies, that he may have the 
paper for consultation. Some very quaint 
diaries of his are preserved in the family, 
begun when he was eleven — little thin 
paper books stitched together in brown 
paper covers. The " illustrations " upon 
the earlier pages show the effect of the 
Revolutionary War upon the young imagi- 
nation. This diary keeping was continued through sixty-five years ; 
and the nineteen thick closely-written quarto volumes form a 
remarkable record of statesmanship, historical events, and saga- 
cious conclusions concerning public men and international rela- 




SILVER CoFIEE-POT UUNKD l;Y 
JOHN ADAMS. 



94 THI- I'AMIiy Ol- JUHX ADAMS. 

tions — a JDurnal, in fact, of the making of the .American nation. 

His education, so far as s( lioolroom and regular teacher con- 
tributed, was fragmentary, but at ten the quality of his general 
knowledge was remarkable. He iiad browsed to good purpose 
among his father's books, had discussed the important events of 
the world's history with his mother, and had heard a great deal 
of serious conversation between men and women of a high order. 

One of Mr. Adams's law students, a Mr. Tha.xter, had resided 
in the family informally acting the part of tutor to the boys. At 
seven John had been reading Rollins' Ancient History aloud to 
his mother, and was also hard at work on the Latin language. 
His father wrote at that jDeriod, from Con^ness : "I hope to hear 
a good account of his accidence and nomenclature when I return." 
He often urged Mrs. .\danis to pay particular attention to the 
children's I'lench. He says, 

■• I wish I understood French as well as you. I feel the want of education ever)' day. particu- 
larly of that language. I pray, my dear, that you would not suffer your sons or your daughter ever 
to feel a similar pain. It is in your power to teach them French, and I every day see more and 
more that it will become a necessary accomplishment of an .\merican gentleman or lady." 

He asks in the same breath for the author of her "thin French 
pronouncing grammar," and we may suppose him going over 
much the same lessons in Philadelphia as the little Braintree 
students were conning. 

Hut character-building was of still more importance in the 
patriot-father's eyes. His letters to the mother of these children 
abounded with grave injunctions. He was not making any money 
in serving his countrymen, and he often felt that his sons would 
have to hew every stej) of their way in the world. At the time 



2'HE FAMIL Y OF JOHN ADAMS. 95 

when he was preparing his Thoughts on Government he wrote to 
Mrs. Adams : 

" What will come of this labor, time will discover. I shall get nothing by it, I believe, because 
I never get anything by anything that I do. I am sure the public or posterity ought to get some- 
thing. I believe my children will think I might as well have thought and labored a little, night 
and day, for their benefit. But I will not bear the reproaches of my children. I will tell them 
that I studied and labored to procure a free constitution of government for them to solace them- 
selves under, and if they do not prefer this to ample fortune, to ease and elegance, they are not my 
children, and I care not what becomes of them. They shall live upon thin diet, wear mean clothes, 
and work hard with cheerful hearts and free spirits, or they may be the children of the earth, or of 
no one, for me. 

"John has genius, and so has Charles. Take care that they don't go astray. Cultivate their 
minds, inspire their little hearts, raise their wishes. Fix their attention upon great and glorious 
objects. Root out every little thing. Weed out every meanness. Make them great and manly. 
Teach them to scorn injustice, ingratitude, cowardice, and falsehood. Let them revere nothing 
but religion, morality, and liberty. 

" Abby and Tommy are not forgotten by me, although I did not mention them before. The first, 
by reason of her sex, requires a different education from the two I have mentioned. Of this, you 
are the only judge. I want to send each of my little pretty flock some present or other. I have 
walked over this city twenty times, and gaped at every shop, like a countryman, to find something, 
but could not. Ask every one of them what they would choose to have, and write it to me in your 
ne.\t letter. From this I shall judge of their taste and fancy and discretion." 

Of " Tommy," who was the youngest child, we get many 
mentions in the published family letters. There is a pathetic 
glimpse of the little fellow down with the pestilence that followed 
the battles and privations of 1776, when "he is unwilling any but 
mamma should do for him," and " mamma " says " from a hearty, 
hale, corn-fed boy, he has become pale, lean and wan." 



96 



THK J-AM/LY OJ- JOIIX ADAMS. 



CHAPTKR II. 



IN EUROPE. 




I 



N the spring of 177S Con- 
gress sent Mr. Adams 
over to France to re- 
inforce Ur. Franklin 
there, as joint-commis- 
sioner. France was 
our friend and ally, and 
Mr. .Adams wasdeemed 
MKs. jun.N Ai-AM.s KA.N. ^^c bcst man to ac- 

(Carritd hy .\fri Adnm, mkrti frrunird lo tluir Majtslirs Km/^ Gevrgc CjUaint tllC FrCnCh GoV- 
•mhJ QurrH Ckarlollt: mnv in pesstuioH of ktr great-grtat- 

eraHddaugktrr, Mr,. Hood, fj Baltimore.) emmeilt Willi OUT SpC- 

cial needs and the details of our precarious situation. Dr. Franklin 
was reflective, a philosopher ; Mr. .Adams was a man of nerve, 
decision, j)n)mpt action. 

He took with him his eldest son. Master J. Q. was only ten, 
but as we know, had been always a great reader, and his mind and 
character had developed beyond the ordinary growth of boys of 
his age and time. In his thoughts he really was more at home in 
foreign lands than in .America, which to him, though a country 
worth fighting for, must have been, in the large, a blank wilderness 
without stories or legends, historic ruins or famous battlefields, 
noble libraries, palaces or cathedrals. He knew it to be the duty 
of grown-u]) .\mericans to give fight to kings and courts and parlia- 



THE FAMILY OF JOHN ADAMS. 97 

ments, and for their young sons to detest monarchs and all their 
tyrannous laws and deeds. Still the young student of Ancient 
History felt gratified at the prospect of beholding a crown and a 
throne. Continental Congresses were beyond doubt the finest 
things possible for the progress of the human race, and of course 
no conqueror was to be compared with his father and Mr. Han- 
cock and Mr. Sam Adams and General George Washington ; 
nevertheless he experienced an indescribable sensation of pleasure 
and swelling growth at the idea of exploring for himself the Old 
World of the histories. 

They set sail, and it was four months, all March and April and 
May and June and more, before the little family at Braintree 
received any tidings from the travelers. Vessels carrying letters, 
both ways, fell into the hands of English privateers, and the loyal 
American captains, fearing that the sturdy patriot and his wife had 
put political news into their pages important to the enemy, took 
the liberty of destroying the epistles. Meantime Mrs. Adams 
heard that Dr. Franklin had been assassinated in Paris, and feared 
the new Commissioner would meet with the same fate, or else be 
taken by English ships and hung out of hand ; for the British 
Government particularly disliked Mr. John Adams. For two 
months the report of Dr. Franklin's murder went uncontradicted, 
and the " horrid idea of assassination " haunted Mrs. Adams day 
and night. The vessel, too, in which Mr. Adams sailed, was not 
heard from, and for a long time was given up as lost. 

But Mr. Adams and " Johnny " — who, his father says, 
"behaved like a man " on the voyage — had arrived safely, and 
Mr. Adams was finding France " one great garden," its " delights 
innumerable. The politeness, the elegance, the softness, the deli- 



gS nil-: FAMILY or JOHX ADAMS. 

cacy. are cxtrciiK-," says the straiii^er from the Province of Massa- 
chusetts Hay, and "stern and haughty republican as I am I cannot 
help loving these people." "Johnny" was put in school, but his 
father took care that he should see something of French society 
in the homes of various illustrious families, and should attend on 
numerous fine public occasions. The report of the young Ameri- 
can's behavior is very satisfactory. Mr. Adams informs Mrs. 
Ailams : 

" My son has had a great opportunity to see this country, but this has unavoidably retarded his 
education in some other things. He has enjoyed perfect health, from first to last, and is rcs|>eclcd 
wherever he goes for his vigor and vivacity both of mind and body, for his constant good humor, 
and for his rapid progress in French as well as his general knowledge which for his age is 
uncommon." 

'■ .My little son gives me great pleasure both by his assiduity to his books and his discreet 
behavior. The lessons of his mamma are a constant lesson to him, and ihc reflection that they 
are so to his sister and brothers is a never-failing consolation to me at times when I feel more ten- 
derness for them than words can express or than I •iluuilcl choose to e.>cpress if I had power." 

Mrs. Adams read these letters from " sunny France " and 
answered them, amid the thousand cares and harassments of a 
"farmeress" as Mr. Adams sometimes called her. I*"arm-labor was 
eight dollars a day. She was paying forty dollars a yard for calico, 
four dollars a pound for >ugar, all food in proportion, and she 
writes to Mr. Adams that she supplies her own family "spar- 
ingly;" she says: ' I scarcely know the look or taste of biscuit 
or flour, for this four months." Families all through the New 
England section were fed as " sparingly." The j)ro.spects of the 
Continental .Army and the infant nation were dark, dark. She 
looks out from her bleak windows in Braintree upon " mountains 
of snow "and a winter hurricane, isolated from all but her children 



THE FAAIIL V OF JOHN ADAMS. 99 

and her domestics, and sighs : " How insupportable the idea that 
three thousand miles and the vast ocean now divide us ! " then 
adds : 

" Difficult as the day is, cruel as the war has been, separated as I am, on account of it, from the 
dearest connection in life, I would not exchange my country for the wealth of the Indies or be any 
other than an American, though I might be queen or empress of any nation upon the globe." 

In the summer of 1779 Mr. Adams returned to America, as 
Congress had resolved to keep but one Commissioner in France. 
Even at that early period in American politics there were parties 
and policies, personal ambitions, leaders of factions and willing 
blackeners of character — even General Washington was attended 
upon by critics and traitors from first to last during the entire 
progress of the Revolutionary War. That intrigue prevailed 
among American public men abroad is not surprising. As Mr. 
Adams was determined " to love nobody and nothing but the 
public good " he often found himself unpopular on all sides, and 
he came home to his native land feeling that Congress and his 
country placed no value on his services. On the eve of leaving 
France he writes to Mrs. Adams: 

" The Congress, I presume, expect that I should come home, and I shall come accordingly. As 
they have no business for me in Europe I must contrive to get some for myself at home. Prepare 
yourself for moving to Boston, into the old house [on Queen Street], for there you shall go, and 
there I will draw writs and deeds, and harangue juries, and be happy." 

He arrived home, however, only to be sent immediately back 
to Europe on a new commission. It was decided between the 
parents, in view of the disadvantages at home for the education 
of their sons in the midst of all the commotion of a war, that he 



THE J-AMIIY OI- JOJLX .in.D/S. 



should take Jolin (jiiiiK) back with him, also the younger soir 
Charles, then about nine, for a considerable stay in Europe. The 
time should be spent partly in travel and partly in study. 






,r\ 






f-jri-j.i 






A<^ 






//-., 



-/J. 



INSIDE FKU.NI COVhK A.M. IlKM 1 \.l i lili |.|\k\ l.K.IN liv |ii||N l.iUINCY ADAMS AT THE 
A(JE OF KI.KVKN, Kl.DLCI.D AllOLT UNK HALF. 

Next to their love for their country their consideration for the 
building up of the minds and characters of their children were 
uppermost in all that Mr. and Mrs. Adams did. 

They sailed in November. There was a <;oodly companv of 
them, Mr. Thaxter, the children's teacher, i^oing too, and a certain 
little Sammy Cooper, so that Mr. .Adams had three youngsters in 
charge. The opening pages of one of Ma^ter J. Q.'s little diaries. 



2 HE FAMILY UF JOHN ADAMS. jqj 

reproduced here, give the story of the start, and show him to have 
had a common boy's enjoyment of all the small incidents of a sea- 
voyage. His mother and sister watched the frigate pass out down 
Nantasket Roads and drop below the horizon beyond Cohasset 
with lonely feelings. Still, the men of their house must get their 
educations and know the world ; the generation of young men 
next to come upon the stage of American affairs would need well- 
trained wits to manage the business of a new nation. 




PAGES TEN AND ELEVEN OF THE liIARY. 



The travelers had a slow, stormy winter voyage. Their frigate 
sprung aleak and they disembarked in Spain. They went by 
land into France. 



I02 THE lA.SflLV OF JOHN ADAMS. 

Mr. Adams wiitL-s about the niulc-back journey, a thousand 
miles, over tlie mountains, to I'aris : 

'• Nil post, bad roads, bad taverns and verj- dear. We must ride mules, horses not being to be 
had. I must get some kind of carriage (or the children if possible. Charles has sustained the 
voy.-ige and l>ehaves as well as ever his brother did. Sammy Cooper, too, is very well. These 
voung gentlemen give me a vast deal of trouble in this unexpected journey. I have bought a 
dictionary and grammar, and they are learning the Spanish language as fast as possible. What 
could we do if you and all the family were with me.'" 

They were three months reaching Paris. There he writes : 

•• The children are still in good health and spirits and well pleased with their academy. Ah I 
how much pain have these young gentlemen cost me within these three months I The mountains, 
the cold, the mules, the houses without chimneys or windows, the — I will not add. I wish for a 
painter to draw me and my company mounted on muleback, or riding in the calechcs, or walking, 
for we walked one third of the way. Vet by the help of constant care and ex|)cnse I have been 
able to get them .ill •<afi- m r.iri>." 

He adds that he hopes their travels will be of service to them, 
but those at home are best off. 

The " young gentlemen " themselves, however, must have con- 
sidered that they were very well off. They dined with the Amer- 
ican Commissioner in great houses and high company and " behaved 
beautifully" every time — miniature men in chapeaux, queues, 
powder and frilled shirts — and drove about agreat deal and visited 
public buildings, palaces, gardens, libraries and museums without 
number. 

Later they were placed in the University at Leyden. where 
they settled down with their American tutor, Mr. Tha.xter, to hard 
study, giving their principal attention to the French and German 
languages, as became lads who might be called upon to act as 



THE FA JUL y OF JOHN ADAMS. 103 

foreign ministers in tlie future should their country succeed in 
becoming a nation. 

Mrs. Adams kept up a continuous correspondence with her 
sons. To Master John especially she wrote long letters full of 
advice. She told him he had been a great reader (he was familiar 
with Rollins' History at seven) and of course knew there had been 
and still was a great deal of crime in the world, but she thought he 
had never realized it. He was now going to have an opportunity 
to see it, and she warned him against getting familiar with it. 
She admonished him that he was accountable to his Maker for all 
his words and actions. This was not an unusual letter from a 
mother but he, an unusual son, not only replied in a way which 
would do credit to a college professor, but we are told by a noted 
man of the time that during his travels he often behaved with such 
discretion as to bring the blush of shame to the faces of his older 
companions. 

In 1 781, when he was fourteen, John Ouincy was appointed 
private secretary to Francis Dana, minister to Russia, and traveled 
with him through Germany to St. Petersburg to the court of the 
great Catherine. Aside from duties he found time to go on with 
Latin, German, French and history. The next winter he passed 
at Stockholm, and in the spring visited Copenhagen and Hamburg, 
traveling slowly and visiting eminent men on the route, spending 
time in art galleries, and examining the architecture in the 
countries he passed through. 

It was during this term abroad that the pastel painting was 
made of him at sixteen years of age, an etching of which is given 
as the frontispiece of this volume. The color-description of the 
original presents the idea of a handsome youth ; 



I04 'J'JH- 1AM J LY OrjOUX ADAMS. 

" Tliv lica<l is powdurud, liiit a luck nf the dark hair is indistinctly seen falling down the lioy's 
l>ack in a queue, and tied with a black riband. The cuniplexion is a fine blonde, charmingly 
accented by the dark eyes and irregular arched eyelirows, while a slight cast in the left eye, with 
the faint roguish smile that plays about the mouth, add a certain piquancy, making the face very 
pleasant to look at. The coat is of pale blue silk with a jabut of lace." 

Tliis pastel, thf hist pnrtrait made of him, he t^ave to his sister 
Abigail, and it is now in possession of her descendants, the 
De Windts. 

His father speaks of him at this age: 

'• He is grown to be a man, .tnd the world says they should take him for my younger brother, if 
they did not know him to be my son. . . . He is very studious and delights in nothing but 
l>ooks, which alarms me for his health ; because, like me, he is naturally inclined to l>e fat. His 
knowledge and his judgment are so far l>eyond his years, as to be admired by all who have 
conversed with him. I lament, however, that he could not have his education at Harvard College, 
where his brothers shall have theirs if Providence should afford me the means of supporting the 
expense of it." 

As for little Charles, who was a delicate lad at the best, the 
Dutch air did not agree with him, and he was homesick besides, 
and was sent back to America; and after manv mishaps and much 
wandering and changing of ships he arrived at the old home in 
Hraintree, to the relief of his mother, who during the four months 
after she knew he had sailed had heard onlv once from him — a 
vessel had been seen by some one who saw a child on board and 
was told that it was Mr. John Adams's son. 

The years of this sojourn abroad were eventful for America. 
Mr. Adams gained much for his country with foreign governments, 
but Mrs. .Adams wished often that her husband was once more 
"an untitled man," ant! Mr. .Adams frec|uently resolved to return 
home. .A life of simple frugality on his farm with his books and 



THE FAMILY OF JOHN ADAMS. 105 

his family about him, with his country at peace, was his dream. 
At dinner with Dukes and Duchesses, Senators and Ambassadors, 
he wishes that instead he were dining on plain roast beef with 
Braintree and Weymouth neighbors, or on rusticoat potatoes with 
his wife and children. So we read in his letters. 

But the affairs of America requiring him to stay, his family 
joined him abroad in 17S4. This was a great event for the Adams 
young people, especially for Miss Abigail to whom, at eighteen, her 
father was still practically a stranger. She cjuaintly expresses her 
opinion of this gentleman after a year's acquaintance : 

" I discover a thousand traits of softness, delicacy and sensibility in this excellent man's char- 
acter. I was once taught to fear his virtues ; happy am I that I find them rather to love, grown 
up into life unknown to him, and ignorant of him. . . How amiable, how respectable, how 

worthy of every token of my attention, has this conduct rendered a parent, a father, to whom we 
feel due even a resignation of our opinions ! " 

Mr. Adams and his son came to London from the Hague to 
receive them, and they all went to Paris, taking a house at Auteuil, 
" very large and very inconvenient," says Miss Abigail, " about 
fifty little apartments, so small, most of them, as to be inconvenient 
for lodging," and there they proceeded to live after the French 
st3'le ; and though Miss Abigail would have liked to follow her 
American ideas of taste, she says "we must all sacrifice to custom 
and fashion," and dutifully adds, " I will not believe it possible to 
do otherwise ; for my papa, with his firmness and resolution, is a 
perfect convert to the mode in everything, at least of dress and 
appearance." 

The Massachusetts girl looked on at the fairy-tale French life, 
in which she presently found herself involved, with a very critical 



lo6 THE lAMHY Ol- JOHX ADAMS. 

eye. She moved about obediently as her part required. Slie had 
her airings in a grand coach and she and her parents and brothers 
took their place in imposing processions and parades. She at- 
tended ambassadors' dinners, and her father gave dinners in return 
to which came many princes of many nationalities. She mentions 
various pageants and shows, among them a certain day. Ash 
Wednesday perhaps, when the King and Queen washed the feet 
of a number of poor children in public, and gave them a repast, 
" their Highnesses," as she terms them, acting as waiters. But 
strange as it may seem in a young person of eighteen, she chiefly 
occupied herself with a study of Parisian manners, and an analysis 
of the French people's philosophy of life. However, it is to be 
remembered that Miss Abigail Adams was not a person with an 
ordinary mind, but the daughter of her father and mother. 

She notes in her diary: "This people are more attentive to 
their amusements than anything else;" that " no one in Europe 
is fearful of asking a remembrance." otherwise a " tip; " is aston- 
ished when she finds a house that is "elegant and neat at the same 
time ; " speaks of a French gentleman as " an agreeable man who 
has been in .America and was perhaps improved;" feels a repug- 
nance to dining off silvor and gold dishes which she "cannot like 
as well as china; " admires the softness, sweetness and affability of 
" French ease;" criticises those ladies "who by an e.xuberance of 
sprightliness and wit slip from the path of being perfectly agree- 
able ; " notes that Madame de la Fayette does not like French 
ladies and prefers Americans; that " it will not do to see any danc- 
ing after that at the opera which exceeds evervthing in the 
world; " criticises women with grace who lack dignity — "grace," 
she savs, "depends upon the person, actions and manners; dignity 




MRS. WIIMAM S. SMITH. (.M;lr,,\II, An.\MS.) 
(Painted l<y Brcrjiii, in 1786.) 



THE FAMILY OF JOHN ADAMS. 109 

is placed in the mind " — in short she distrusts the nature of a 
French lady while she admires her manner, and agrees with the 
gentleman who said to her that he " preferred an English lady who 
had acquired the graces of French manners." 

Her own chief friendships were with Mr. Thomas Jefferson 
and his daughter Martha who was there at school in a convent, 
the venerable Dr. Franklin, and the family of the Marquis de la 
Fayette. Mr. Jefferson, the courtly Virginian, was particularly 
fond of showing the young Adamses about Paris, and of inviting 
Miss Abigail to " make tea " at his house for distinguished 
company. 

But the feathers and flowers and fans and flounces of that sort 
of fairy-tale life cost money, and the dinners to diplomatists in 
Paris differ from those served on a Massachusetts farm, and Miss 
Abigail's early frugal training was constantly constraining her 
to count up the cost, and she is recorded to have grieved 
because her father was obliged to spend so much money in main- 
taining an establishment which should do credit to the country he 
represented. Doubtless her thrifty mother often spoke of the 
matter; and however fine the young Adamses may have thought 
their Parisian establishment their father, writing home to Mr. 
Elbridge Gerry, said that Congress had pinched him and his 
fellow Commissioners in their salaries to such a degree as to 
make it impossible for them to see any company or " live in 
character." 

Meantime while Miss Adams was acquiring very good conver- 
sational French and learning to say, even in her own mother 
tongue, far less than she thought, her brother was haunting the 
libraries and lectures, doing a prodigious amount of reading and 



no THE FAMIJ.y OJ- JOJLX A J). I. M.S. 

writing and rc(kctin<j;. having conversation with learned men, and 
drawing comparisons between the civil words of royalty and 
royaltys deeds, and withal making up his mind to go home and 
enter Harvard College and settle down in his native land which 
he did in 17S5, the year his father was appointed Minister to (ircat 
IJritain. 

In London Mrs. Adams and her daughter were among 
people speaking their own language, and withal very curious 
concerning the two fair rebels, ft)r as such the majority of English- 
men still regarded all Americans. Many remarkable questions 
were asked of both the elder lady and the younger one, and many 
queries put as to which kingdom they found most enjoyable and 
admirable, England or France ; for at that timr there was great 
enmity between these countries. Miss Abigail's journal shows that 
she exhibited much tact in answering these inquiries. Hut when 
her new acquaintances began comparing America with England to 
the former's disadvantage, she laid aside policy and sturdily said 
that we had as much culture and refinement as they, and that our 
middle and lower classes were infinitely superior to theirs; and 
here our young republican must certainly be credited with some- 
thing of her father's courage. 

The two .American ladies were duly presented to the English 
Majesties. King George \vas gruff and Queen Charlotte was 
unmistakably "snubby " to Mrs. Adams who was the first represen- 
tative of her sex tt) come from the United States to the English 
Court; the King and Queen, especially the Queen, were very 
dark and sore over the loss of their American colonies. 

Mrs. .•\dan1^ describes her daughter's court dre.ss in a letter 
Xo two young cousins in Hraintree, Betsey and Lucy : 



THE FAMILY OF JOHN ADAMS. Ill 

" .... the train being wliolly of white crape and trimmed with white ril^bon ; the petti- 
coat, which is the most showy part of the dress, covered and drawn up in what are called festoons, 
with light wreaths of beautiful flowers ; the sleeves white crape, drawn over the silk, with a row of 
lace round the sleeve near the shoulder, another half-way down the arm, a third upon the top 
of the ruffle, a little flower stuck between ; a kind of hat-cap with three large feathers and a bunch 
of flowers ; a wreath of flowers upon the hair." 

" How was she dressed.'' " must have been as common a ques- 
tion then as now, for in another letter Mrs. Adams is again describ- 
ing her daughter's London arraying — this time at an Ambassa- 
dor's ball : 



" She was dressed in a gown and coat of Chamberi gauze, trimmed with broad point and pink 
ribbon. A small white Leghorn hat bound with pink satin ribbon; a steel buckle and band which 
turned up at the side and confined a large pink bow ; a large bow of the same ribbon, behind ; a 
wreath of full-blown roses round the crown, and another of bud and roses withinside the hat, which 
being placed at the back of the hair, lirought the roses to the edge — you see it clearly; feathers 
completed the head-dress. . . Hut the poor girl was so sick with a cold, she could not enjoy 

herself, and we retired about one o'clock, without waiting supper, by which you have lost a half a 
sheet of paper, I dare say." 



Miss Abigail is chronicled as having " an interesting rather 
than a pretty face, with wide-apart almond-shaped eyes and a long, 
decided nose." The portrait by Copley was painted in England ; 
in that she wears " a white wig, caught down by strands of pearls, 
the. dress a quaint little black silk mantle or caraco, with necker- 
chief of gauze, the hands thrust in a muff of long black fur." 
Copley specially asked her to sit to him, and afterwards presented 
the portrait to her brother John Ouincy, who in after-life gave 
it to his niece, Abigail's daughter, Mrs. DeWindt. In the por- 
trait by Brown, painted about the time of her marriage, she wears 
white and blue. 



,12 THI'. I-'.IMIIY {)!■ JOHN AIKIMS. 

She was mnrricd to the Secretary of the American Legation. 
Colonel William Stephens Smith, in 1786. It was an odd coin- 
cidence that by this marriage her name became the same as her 
niolluT's niaidrn name, .Abigail Sniith. 

It was her husband. Colonel Smith, who stood for the full- 
length portrait of General Washington which hangs in the White 
House, in the Hast Room, and which, old stories say, was cut from 
the frame by Mistress Dolly Madison and Cieorge Washington 
Custis during the British invasion of W'ashington. The face was 
copied from another picture, but thu figure is Colonel Smith's. 

Colonel Smith was a New Yorker, an educated man, graduated 
from Princeton. He was an officer of distinction from first to last 
in the .\merican army, one of Washington's favorite aids-de-camp, 
discharging brilliantly many important trusts. He had important 
parts in several of the great British surrenders. He was one of 
the Commissioners appointed to superintend the final evacuation 
of the country. .At the evacuation of New York City he was 
" the acting officer of the day, relieved the British guards, and was 
the officer to whom the country was officially surrendered." He 
was a man thoroughly conversant with all .American affairs, of 
intense patriotism, and altogether to the mind of Miss .Abigails 
father and mother. 

Colonel Smith was sent officially to the Court of Lisbon shortly 
after his marriage, and various public business was committed to 
his charge. The family correspondence portrays his private char- 
acter in a very genial light, and we find Mistress .Abigail showing 
much of her mother's wit, spirit, and good judgment, and her hus- 
band complimenting her, saying, " There is a great pleasure in 
having my companion a little of a ]Militician." 



THE FAMIL Y OF JOHN ADAMS. 



113 



CHAPTER III. 



AFTER THE REVOLUTION. 




ONE OF THE JOHN ADWIb MOUNb 
(Own-t/ l-y 
2 great, grea1-grajid(iai<ghtcr^ lilrs. Woods, of Bait ii 



N plans for their children, 
Mr. and Mrs. Adams de- 
voted, naturally, their sons 
to the service of their 
country. Their sister too, 
in her serious reticent fash- 
ion, thought a great deal upon the future of these young men. 
Miss Abigail was very fond of her brothers. Whenever they 
were separated she carried on a voluminous and painstaking 
correspondence with Master John Ouincy, discussing with him 
fashions and manners and morals, society events and political 
occurrences, as no young woman of our day would think she had 
time to do, and offering him plenty of sage advice. Of the other 
two, " Charles is a sweet little fellow," she frequently says; " Tom 
is something of a rogue." Their father, later, on getting home 
from Europe for good and making the acquaintance of his family 
more intimately than he ever before had been able to do, o-jves 
his sons much the same character. After speaking of John 
Quincy as having "great talents, high standards of morals and 
conduct," he says, " Tom is as fine a youth as either of the three, 
with a spice of fun that may lead him astray. Charles wins the 
heart, as usual, and is the most of a gentleman of them all." 

Master John Ouincy, as we know, had been a " public man " 



114 



THE FAMii.v oj- jonx .U).L\rs. 



in miniature ever since his eleventh birthday. Abroad, men and 
women of distinction were interested in this smihng young Ameri- 
can. His character made an impression upon mature minds. 
Great people talked of iiini to his parents, as a patriot, a states- 
man. Not without reason, either ; the fiber of the patriot shows 
in the lioy who, with the foreign universities open to him, made 
up his own mind to go home to his raw America, enter college 
there, and become oni: with his own young countrymen. In this 
resolve he had the hearty ajjproval of his family. 

He lanikd on his native shores after an absence of seven years, 
and was at once much attended to by his elders and betters. It 
was known to the American government and to society that .Mr. 
John .Adams had a rather remarkable son, whose capacities and 
attainments were beyond his years — this was in 17S5, and he was 
about eighteen then. The Government was in New York, and he 
landed at that port with his dispatches and letters. Doctors of 
divinitv, scholars and jjublic dignitaries pressed their attentions 
upon him, he was lodged with the President of Congress, and dined 
with various statesmen and political men. .As he had the modesty 
to believe that these courtesies were paid him "' for my father's 
sake " he esca]X'd unharmed. 

He met the beaus and ijelles of the day, and in his letters to 
his sister he passed many pungent strictures upon the education 
and mental status of his young countrywomen both in New York 
and Boston. It must be taken into account that Master John had 
been a favorite with the polished women of foreign society and 
that he was accustomed to the strength and good sense of his 
mother's conversation, and to Miss .Abigail's fine powers of |)enetra- 
tion and satire. Writes this traveled young gray-beard of eighteen : 




l*RFSir»KNT lOHN ADAMS. 



THE FAMILY OF JOHN ADAMS. 119 

" In Europe you commonly see that even young ladies of fortune have an excellent education 
given thein before they are introduced into the world, but here . . . they think it beneath 
them to know anything but to dance and talk scandal. . . . They are carried into company 
when they are far too young . . . complete nonsense is a word not expressive enough of the 
insipidity and absurdity that reigns in our polite conversation." 

"Female beauty," Master John quaintly adds, "is so universal 
in this country that I pay little attention to it." He seems some- 
times to have found character and mind, and often beauty, but 
never the three united in one woman. 

One young New York girl, however, did secure his approval. 
This was Miss Sally Smith of Throgg's Neck, the sister of his 
sister's future husband. Colonel William Smith. He says of Miss 
Sally: 

" .She is tall, has a very fine .shape, and a vast deal of vivacity in her eyes, which are of a 
light blue. She has the ease and elegance of a French lady without their loquacity. Her conver- 
sation, I am told, is as pleasing as her figure." 

He frequently contrasts this young girl with the celebrated 
belles of the day, and always to her advantage; this highly satis- 
factory person afterward became the wife of Master J. 0."s younger 
brother, Charles. 

Buying a horse in New York he journeyed horseback to Brain- 
tree, leisurely, a young Frenchman accompanying him in his 
chaise and pair — a fine lark it doubtless was. They stopped at 
New Haven to visit Yale College and President Stiles, and J. O. 
remarks in a letter to his sister that the library of the University 
" is neither so large nor so elegant as your papa's." 

He went to Haverhill to prepare, with his Uncle Shaw, for the 
examination at Harvard. His brothers were studvin"" there. Their 



I20 Till: JAM 1 1. Y OFJOUX .11 KIMS. 

aunt says of ihc boys after tlic arrival of " Mr. J. O. A." as she 
usually terms him : 

" riicy chose to lodge together. I went up after they were in Iwd to see if they weic cum- 
fortalile (.is I told them) but really to enjoy the sati.sf.-iction of seeing the three brothers embrac- 
ing; each other in love, innocence, health and peace." 

She presently describes the distinguished young arrival at her 
house as tenacious and decisive in his opinions, generally differing 
from everybody else in the company — "a fault," she remarks, 
"which at the early age of eighteen generally arrives at its great- 
est jierfection," and further adds, coinciding with his foreign 
friends, " In him I >ee the wise politician, the good statesman, and 
the patriot in embryo." 

These things were written to Mrs. .\dams — that " incompara- 
ble mother," as her great son called her in his after years. 

In his correspondence with his sister there may be found a 
very fully-painted picture of the Harvard College of the day and 
the pompous President at that time. The writing of these amus- 
ing, satirical letters seems to have been his chief rela.xation from 
study. It was the tutors who came in for his heartiest ridicule. 
He speaks of the "awful distance" between them and tho.se whom 
thev were supposed to teach and assist: 

" .V Turkish bashaw could not be more imperious ... nor will they in any manner 
mix with the students so as to give them information upon any subject . . . it is entirely in- 
consistent for a tutor to treat a scholar tike a gentleman. How do you think this sets upon your 
lirother's stomach.' Such are these giants who, like the Colossus, l)estride the whole length of 
ll.nrvard College." 

Recreating himself with these outbursts, his practice upon a 
flute, and his vacation visits to Quincy and Haverhill, he did an 



THE FAMILY OF JOHN ADAMS. 12 1 

immense amount of hard work and carried off the class honors. 
His graduation oration was sought for publication in the leading 
magazines and newspapers of the day, and was much discussed by 
politicians and the press. 

He studied law for three years, and was admitted to practice in 
1790, when he was twenty-three years old. He opened an office 
in Boston. Speaking of that time he says : 

" I was without support of any kind, I may say I was a stranger in that city although almost a 
native of that spot. I say I can hardly call it practice, because for the space of one year from 
that time it would be difficult for me to name any practice which I had to do. For two years irideed 
I can recall nothing in which I was engaged that may be termed practice, though during the second 
year there were some symptoms that by preserving patience practice might come in time. The 
third year I had little, but the fourth year I felt it swelling to such an extent that I no longer 
felt any uneasiness." 

During this season of waiting for clients he wrote upon public 
affairs for the newspapers. The articles attracted much notice. 
President Washington particularly liking them, and they were 
collected and published abroad in England and Scotland, where 
they received the attention of public men. 

Just as he had reached the point of professional prosperity, 
however, his country claimed his services. On his twenty-seventh 
birthday he was appointed minister to the Netherlands ; two years 
later minister to Portugal ; but before he could make his arrange- 
ments to leave for Portugalhe received a third diplomatic appoint- 
ment — this time to Berlin. He seems to have been a favorite 
with General Washington, who could justly weigh the caliber of 
the young statesman and who repeatedly pronounced him " the 
most valued character we have abroad." 

Before going to Germany he visited London and was married 



,22 TJIK JA.Mll.y OJ- JOllX ADAMS. 

to Miss Louise Catherine Johnson, a clau.2;hter of the American 
Consul. They set out for Berlin, but upon their arrival at the 
outer gates a dapper officer chose not to admit him to the city, 
,'ven after he had explained his position. There was some con- 
versation about the matter, but at last a private succeeded in ex- 
plaining to the officer "who the United States of America were.' 

Meantime, his sister and her husband had returned to AmeriettT 
and settled in New York. Later came Mr. and Mrs. Adams, 
who were welcomed home wilii honors in tlieir own New England. 
The Governor of Massachusetts wished to go out from Hoston 
with his coach-and-four and his light-horse to escort them to 
Hraintrec, and all " Hraintree was for coming out to Milton 
Bridge to meet us," writes Mrs. Adams to her daughter, " but 
this we could by no means assent to." They quitted Hoston 
privately, Mr. Adams one day, Mrs. Adams the next, and so got 
to the old home. They found the house filled with carpenters, 
masons and farmers. The natural effect of taking up this life 
af^ain upon a woman so long accustomed to Paris and London 
establishments, Mrs. .Adams sets down in her letter. Speaking of 
the house she says, " in height and breadth it feels like a wren's 
house." She bids Mrs. Smith to " wear no feathers " when she 
comes, and Colonel Smith "no heels to his boots," or they will not 
be able to walk upright. 

When was the politics of any country without cabals and in- 
trigues? Certaiiilv not in .\merica in tlie nineties of the eighteenth 
century. Mr. John .Adams, on his farm at Quincy, looked on 
with something of the restive feeling of the stalled war-horse 
ftir the fray, whose cannon he ht-ars. lit- writes to his daughter 
in that litrht. hitter stvle of which he was a master: 



Rnillt,, d'n,t'>y /O^^ /7^/i 






rl>finfwiiih,1l, ^^OMttiK S^Cx'tn.yu JiAy\^/ia4 cyxnch^ hi/r y if; ^ a.Jau'Y ^^ 



•/"itriLnt-/s Amr /rr. 






fill, J^Ai}), Jo MuiLti'iJ AMtitfy BrStttctCjtyi. 
— .i (tin )li)0 I'vijin 

x-A- /l,y, ^ov Uf ■ J. ,^^^^ /^ ^ />,/,/„■„ 

"tiun^. ni\^ ivAa <h)Ati\. /t o-(/u>nA /.? ^ /iiavvu /iiv //ewii/UxA, // 

J- ycct'lW CI. Xt/tlvXvn\. lloii^^ 



III 



9/inLr- \Ato/fivV J- J tin mj . 






l*<AA 



illlKR KRoM MR. JOHN A|i 



THE FAMILY OF JOHN ADAMS. 1 25 

"I will tell you, my dear child, in strict confidence, tlnat it appears to me that your father 
does not stand very high in the esteem, admiration, or respect of his country. ... In the 
course of a long absence his character has been lost, and he has got quite out of circulation." 

Young Mistress Smith, who is in the thick of affairs, reply- 
ing, gravely encourages her father : 

" It is my opinion that you will either be elected to the second place on the continent, or 
first in your own State. The general voice has assigned the Presidentship to General Washington, 
and it has been the opinion of many persons whom I have heard mention the subject that the 
Vice-Presidentship would be at your option. I confess that I wish it, and that you may accept it. 
But of the propriety of this you must judge best." 

She is afterwards much pleased to find that her " politics " 
meets with approbation. This daughter of her father and mother 
was somewhat given to forecasts ; she writes home to Braintree 
that she hopes to see all her brothers lawyers, and that she may 
live to see her own little son a law-student with his eminent grand- 
father ; in her opinion " the study of law tends more to mature 
the judgment and establish the right character of the man than 
any other profession." 

She " had her wish " about her brothers. All three, gradua- 
ting from Harvard, studied law, and established themselves in that 
profession, Charles in New York, Thomas, like John Quincy, in 
Boston. 

Charles was a great favorite with the society of his time, and 
was decidedly literary in his tastes, and shared with his eldest 
brother " a tendency to express himself in verse." A small leather- 
covered volume of his manuscripts, poems and prose, belonging 
in the family of his grandson, Mr. W. C. Johnson of Newburyport, 
shows his facility at rhyming. 




126 'J'^fii FAMILY Ol- JOHN ADAMS. 

The title-page runs thus : 

CIIARLKS ADAMS. 

17S7. 

Scraps. 

Omnium i^nthertim. 

KCCENTRICITIES. 

The contents embrace epigrams, impromptus, 
acrostics, riddles, rebuses, rhymed epistles to his 
brothers, elegies, translations, " Imitations " from 
the Spanish and French, and various school vale- 
dictories. As there is an injunction to over-in- 
quisitive persons written on the outer leather in 
ciuRi.Ks AUAMs MastcF Charlcs's largest and plainest hand, his 

IN Ills YOUTH. . . . 

(Tht brothrr 0/ rrt.idrnt countrymcn should content their curiosity with 

John Quincy Adams, tiHd , , . * \ _ 

/..ihrr 0/ suu.H«a Boyi- Tsxi cpigraiii upou a certain learned young woman 
"iZr,tZ.ny7is,^r"i of Cambridge, and the acrostic upon the name 
^*Z^!wr'"iwj' of the ladye-love who afterwards became his 
wife, the "Miss Sallie " of J. Q. A.^ young admiration. 



CHARACTER OF A CAMIIRIDC.E FAIR. 

With laltin scraps the fool pretends to charm. 
Anil with CIreek sciitencfs the pa.ssions warm. 



Shall brighter Bards in rapturous numbers sing 
And generous gifts to meaner altars bring, 
I-oud sound the praises of some fickle fair 
I.ov'd without rea.son. empty a.s the air, 
Vet when a theme like Thee my pen <lcmands 



THE FAMILY OF JOHN ADAMS. 



127 



Shall I prove listless ? No ! 'tis Heaven commands 
Mean you in bondage still to hold mankind ? 
In silken chains the Universe to bind ? 
Take caution once. Despise all meaner pelf, 
Hate every art — and imitate thyself. 



From various signs in the aforesaid manuscript book it is 
gathered that " the course of true love did not run smooth " ; and 
Charles's mother alludes to such troubles in one of her letters to 
Thomas in 1795, given fac-simile here. The young person with 
the "vast deal of vivacity in her eyes," doubtless proved a some- 
what capricious sweetheart, nevertheless a model woman, for 
her mother-in-law says in the manu- 
script family letters : " Sally has 
been a devoted wife render dijjieiiltiesy 
From the mother of Charles this is 
praise indeed — herself the " pattern 
of Filial, Conjugal, maternal and Social 
virtue," to quote a sculptured line from 
the marbles in the church at Ouincy, 
where the illustrious Adamses lie in 
their stone tombs. 

The courtship ran through the 
years of the Adams Vice-Presidency, 
when the family were in New York 
at Richmond Hill ; and on their mar- 
riage the pair settled in that city 
where Charles was becoming successful in his profession, when 
his death suddenly occurred, in iSoo. 

Mrs. Adams enjoyed New York, in the Vice-Presidency and 




THOM.\S BOYLSTON ADAMS AT 23. 
{From the ittiniature worn by his mother, Airs. 
Abigail Adattts, as a bracetet-clas/t ; the origi- 
nal shows the gay colors affected by the young 
gentlemen of the day ; a scarlet waistcoat en- 
lunces the soft richness of T.B.A.'s complexion. 
Lhi'ned by his daughter. Miss B. C. .-I dams.) 



128 HIE FAMUA OJ- JOll.X A I KIMS. 

socially was not jilcascd with the removal of the seat of Govern- 
ment to I'hilacklphia. .As a housekeeper, she was somewhat 
"tried" with the opening and closing of residences. One is apt to 
think of the rulers of the land as being attended upon by 
all comforts and luxuries, their "progresses" made with ease, 
pomp, and pleasure. Mrs. .Adams has left a graphic account of 
her arrival at the \' ice-1'residenlial quarter> in riiiladelphia. Bush 
Hill on the Schuylkill. 

She alighted at its gates one late cold fall I'riday to find her 
furniture standing in wagons outside, no fires, the rooms " all 
green-painted, the workmen there with their brushes in hand. 
This was a cold comfort," she writes Mrs. Smith, "in a hou.se 
where I suppose no fire had been kindled for several years except 
in a back kitchen." There was no wood, there were no pro- 
visions, and the Mrs. Vice-President went to a tavern for the 
night. Next day she returned, made her way in through boxes, 
barrels, chairs, tables, trunks, and with her people fell to work, 
built fires, set up beds, unpacked china and bedding, and late on 
Saturday evening got so far settled as to be able to stay. She 
succinctly states the consequences: 

'• < >n SiiiuLiy Thomas was laid iip with the rheumatism ; on Monday I \v.vs obliged to give 
I.ouusa an emetic ; on Tuesday Mrs. Bieler was taken w ith her old pain in her stomach ; and to 
complete the whole, on Thursday Polly was seized with a violent pleuritic fever. . . . .\nd 
every day, the stormy ones excepted, from eleven until three the house is filled with ladies and 
gentlemen." 

She adds that some days she has not been able to sit up; also 
thankfulness that she has "one room decent to receive her com- 
pany " ; also that onf i)f President Washington's family came to 
call and assured her that she was better off than .Mrs. Washington 



THE FAMIL Y OF JOHN ADAMS. 



129 



would be when she arrived, as the President's house was not likely 
to be completed for months. To fill the sum of her troubles her 
trunks had got wet a foot high "on the leaky vessel which brought 
them from New York " and satin gowns and embroidered robes 
were ruined — "the blessed effects of tumbling about the world," 
adds she, groaning with ague in the face and a violent toothache. 






V^-'- 









a^^ t' —^ r^ 



sr — «• • ^/ — ' '-— ~ 
^ii? _^ <. iK — '- 



1: 



!|t S. - /i-i' • 



FAC-blMlLE AUIOGRAI'H LETTtK BY JOHN ADAMS, MUCH KEIJUCED IN SIZE. 



Official life, too, was conducted with a deal of trouble and toil. 
The weather was snowy and dismally cold, and the two-mile road 
from Brush Hill into town, if she would attend upon Mrs. Wash- 
ington's drawing-rooms, was of brick clay — "the horses," she 
avers, "wallow along up to their knees in a bed of mortar." 

But Philadelphia society was brilliant, and Mrs. Adams in time 
became fond of her official home. The " court circle " boasted of 
several great beauties and many men and women noted for wit 



130 TJII-. J-AM/IV OFJOIIX ADAMS. 

and brcedins;; but among them all a native superiority of sense 
and judgiuent and a lofty view of life distinguished the Massachu- 
setts matron, and it was she who gave the tone to the conversation ; 
not unfrequently some rapier remark of hers in the drawing-room, 
cutting through a tangle of opinions and reaching the root of the 
matter, silently atTected public decisions. Mr>. Adams invariably 
retained the admiration and respect of the jjolitical enemies 
Mr. Adams made. 

The inner honic-life at Brush Hill was always as sinij^le and 
natural as at Ouincy. The little grandson, of whom his mother 
wished he might study law with his grandfather, was a mem- 
ber of the household. lie was not of an age at that time to 
devote himself to Coke and Lyttelton ; instead he used to drive 
the \'ice-President about after dinner every dav with a willow 
stick, much to the delight of that gentleman, and much to the 
detriment of Mrs. Adams's carpets. It was for this same little 
John .Smith, the son of his favorite aid-de-camp, that President 
Washington used to inquire of .Madame X'ice-President at the 
state dinners, and once, "take the.se to .Master John from me," he 
said, picking out the raisins from a cake. 

The youngest Adams son was with the Philadelphia household, 
Thomas Boylston, the "rogue " and fun-lover of whom — his rosi- 
ness and jollity abated somewhat from hard study — his mother 
writes: "He who dies with studying dies in a good cause, and 
may go to another world much better calculated to improve hi> 
talents than if he had died a blockhead. " 

This son did not die early, nor belie the promise of his merrv 
boyhood, but lived to be a rosy, handsome, white-haired old gentle- 
man of a very imposing presence. He married one of the beautiful 



THE FAMILY OF JOHN ADAMS. 131 

Miss Harrods of Newburyport. He lived for a long time in the 
little red house on the Braintree road where his father was born. 
He was then Judge Adams, fond of good living and of his friends, 
genial, courtly, and fascinating in conversation. 

Mr. Adams succeeded General Washington in the Presidency, 
and the family continued to live at Philadelphia, though Mrs. 
Adams often returned to the Ouincy home. She was ill there 
and did not witness the inauguration. Instead she wrote her 
husband a letter on that morning which will go down to posterity. 
Her head was not turned. She reflected with awe upon their 
larger responsibilities toward the American people. 

During the last year of the term Washington became the seat 
of Government — Washingtonople some wished to call the town — 
and it fell to Mrs. Adams's lot to again pack her household goods. 
Her journey thither, as First Lady of the Land, was no more of a 
pageant than her removal from New York had been. They went 
slowly, by carriage, and on leaving Baltimore took the wrong road 
and lost their way in the woods. There was no guide, no 
path. Finally "a straggling black" came up and he extricated 
them. " It was at that period all woods from Baltimore to Wash- 
ington, with here and there a small cot without a glass window." 

The national capital was not then our modern " city of mag- 
nificent distances," but rather " a place of brick kilns and laborers' 
huts." " Pennsylvania Avenue leading from the Capitol to the 
Executive Mansion was a deep morass covered with alder bushes." 
"About forty brick houses — the remainder wooden huts — the 
streets and avenues cut through the woods," says an English letter- 
writer of 1800; the same person, after accusing General Washing- 
ton of vanity in having the capital named after himself, prophesies 



132 'IJll: I'AMII.y Ol- JOUX ADAMS. 

that "as soon as ho is defunct, the city which is to be the boasted 
monument of his greatness will also be defunct." 

The While 1 louse which she pronounces " upon a j^rand and 
superb scale, requiring about thirty servants." Mrs. Adams found 
to be cheerless, if regarded as a home, but said, " If they will put 
nie uj) some bells and let me have wood enough to keep fires I 
design to be pleased. . . Surrounded with forests, can you 

believe that wood is not to be had because people cannot be had 
to cut and cart it.'''" What firewood she could get she burned to 
dry the walls of the house, and then, she says, "had recourse to 
^-^^ coals : but we cannot get grates made and set. 
v\u IrJ^j ^^ ^' 'I'l^'*-" indeed come into a new countrv." she 

\\^^ \^ adds with the shiver of a frontier woman. Not a 
.. „,„ ^ single room was finished, the principal srai'rs were 

"A RtWARD OK IN- f' ' ' 

msiRY." not up, and on Mondays the White House washing 

'^'j''ohTA<u,«s"iTk'u was hung to dry in the great Hast Room. She is 
C'".^w*^Xri^3- writing these things to her daughter, Mrs. Smith, 
,.,ug i,r..Mr,.n,H<^s.\ ^^^^1 ^^.ji^j^ ^j^^_ homely injunction, " V'ou must keep 

all this to yourself. " 

This last year of the John Adams Presidency was disturbed 
bv the fierceness of the political feeling in regard to the ne.xt 
Presidential election. Mr. Adams met with both open injustice 
and secret malignity. He sometimes felt that his friends, his foes, 
and his country were alike ungrateful and undiscriminating. Mrs. 
Adams's sympathy with her husband was as inalienable as it was 
intelligent, and her indignation often surpassed his own. For 
solace they had with them a charming little playfellow, the little 
three-year-old daughter of Charles. The grandparents had adopted 
her when her voung father died, and brought her on to Washing- 



THE FAMILY OF JOHN ADAMS. 133 

ton. With this small Susanna who possessed her mother's vivacity 
and her father's sweetness, they forgot many an official bitterness. 

She was taken home to the farm with them at the expiration 
of the Presidency and proved a dancing ray of sunshine in the old 
house. She grew up there, and was married there, and with her 
own little Susan was there more or less as long as her grand- 
parents lived. 

Her granddaughter, being asked for some reminiscence of this 
White House girl — for Mistress Susanna was guest at the White 
House in three administrations — sent a charming letter of anec- 
dotes which is given entire, that all the world may know that 
the dignified Mrs. John Adams had a grandmotherly gentleness 
toward pranksomeness, that she hung her ginger cookies within 
childi'en s reach, and that she thought it proper to chaperon her 
young people when they went to their dances. 

Mrs. Woods says : 

" My grandmother's earliest recollections were of going to Washington with her grandparents 
after her father's death, of the little black frock that was made for her then, and of having the 
whooping-cough at the White House where in the paroxysms of coughing she would throw herself 
on the floor, and lie exhausted, until picked up by some compassionate member of the household. 

" Of her childhood at Quincy she never tired of talking, and one of her favorite stories was of 
an old man (whose name I cannot recall) who came every year at Christmas to receive his annual 
present from Mrs. Adams. He was quite old and walked with a stick, and sometimes looked like 
Father Christmas himself with his ruddy cheeks and white hair, as he came shaking the snow from 
shoulders and hat. But his chief attraction for us was his staff which was hung from top to 
bottom with beautiful golden and red apples, brightly polished; and as we children gathered 
around him, he distributed the apples to us reciting in a sing-song chant, 

' I wish yoii a merry Christmas, 

And a happy New Year, 
A pocket full of moneyi 

And a cellar full of beer.' 



134 ^^^^- JAMJLV 01- JOIL\ ADAMS. 

" she also particularly rcnicmlK:rcd a hag of ginger-cakes that hung at the top of the cellar 
.steps at (^iiiiicy, and fnini which the children were allowed to help themselves, when they had 
lieen very good. 

"Unc of my grandmother's fast friends and playmates was little .Ann Itlack, and on one 
occasion having received from her L'nclc Thomas [Thomas lloylston Adams] a present of a dolls' 
tea-set, .\nn was invited to ' .-Vfternoon Tea.' They had real hot water in the tea-pot and real 
sugar and cream in the cream-jug and sugar-l>owl, and cake in the plates. All went smoothly until 
my grandmother went out of the room for a few minutes. When she returned Ann's envy had 
overcome her friendship, and though she had tied, the china remained — in little bits on the floor. 
She had smashed it all. .\s toys were more rare, and consequently more valuable in those days 
than now, this incident produced a coolness between the friends, which lasted until some one gave 
Ann an extremely pretty, but small wax-doll, and she invited my grandmother to spend the after- 
noon with her. My grandmother went, carrying her own doll, and the two little girls played most 
happily together; while .Ann with proud superiority displayed the advantages of her doll, which 
was wax and could open and .shut its eyes. But in one unlucky moment she turned her back, and 
like a flash, the wax head was in my grandmother's mouth and two rows of vindictive little teeth 
closed through the neck. With a triumphant 'There!' my grandmother put the several parts 
into Ann's hand, and walked out of the house ; she always ended the story with, • And I never was 
sorry that I bit that doll's head off ! ' 

" A story that belongs to an earlier period was of Mrs. Gushing who was a most admirable 
woman and a valued friend of Mrs. Adams, but she and her husband. Judge Cushing, were rather 
noted, I believe, for a lack of, what an old minister I once knew, called 'personal pulchritude.' I 
have no doubt my grandmother had heard this fact frequently mentioned, and once when driving 
with Mrs. .\dams and Mrs. Cushing, she was so moved by the latter's ugliness that after gazing 
steadily at her for several minutes, she exclaimed, 'Mrs. Cushing! the Judge and you are the 
ugliest couple I ever knew.' Mrs. Cushing was so delighted with the youthful (and truthful) poet, 
that she gave her a hieroglyphic Itible, which was preserved for years. 

" My grandmother delighted to tell of when she was a young lady, going with her grandmother 
to a dance in Hoston, when she, being in light mourning, wore a short black satin skirt, black silk 
stockings, and black satin slippers. A United States man-of-war was in boston harlwr, and several 
of the officers came to the ball. <»ne, a young Marylander, being a stranger, was asked to whom 
he should like to be introduced, lie looked around the room, and said, 'That's the prettiest fool 
here,' and chose niv crandmother's black satin slippers. She after>vards married the young 
lieutenant." 

The noisy little creature was a great favorite with the old 
President. She had the Adams capacity for a hard task of work, 
and that always commended any young person to his favor. She 



THE FAMILY OF JOHN ADAMS. 



135 



was a very neat penman. When he was a Commissioner on the 
Fisheries dispute between Holland and the United States she 
copied for him some thirty foolscap pages, and he took pleasure in 
desiofnino; a suitable reward. He commanded a beautiful rin" to 





V ADAMS. 



MRS. JOHN QriNCY ADAMS. 
{Aliniatures ittade about tJte time of their marriage^ atidnow i?l possession of II'. C. fo/uison, Es//., Nc7ulniryport, Mass. 
TItat of JoknQuiiuywas ivorn by his another, Mrs. Abigail Adams, as a clasp on a bracelet ofbla^k velvet ribbon ; the 
clasp on the companion bracelet laas the miniature of her son, Thomas Boylston Adams.) 



be made ; it was mounted with twelve great pearls and contained 
his hair and her grandmother's, and he said impressively, as he 
gave it to her, " This is a reward for your industry." 

She was next in Washington again as the wife of Lieutenant 
Clark, when her uncle John Ouincy was President Monroe's 
Secretary of State; a gay, witty young society woman. She was 
great friends with Miss Maria Monroe. The stately receptions at 
Mrs. Monroe's she disliked, and after paying her respects she and 
some others of the young society matrons used to slip away to 
houses where etiquette permitted the guests to sit. When she 



136 JtH- i:\MII \ 01 JOIJ.\ ADAMS. 

went to Washington that time, with her husband, in 181.S, the 
Susciiiehanna was found to be frozen soUd. and she and her baby 
ill iier arms, as a la>t resort, were strapped to one of her big trunks 
and liauled over the ice. They came midway to a place where the 
ice was breaking uj), and there they had tt) make a detour and be 
lifted trom cake to cake, and it was such a slow progress that the 
poor little baby's hands and feet were frosted. She was a widow 
at the time her uncle entered the V\'hite House. She became 
widely known in after life, in Southern society, as Mrs. Treadway. 
and lived to be of great age, over ninety. It was to her little 
.Susan that the aged President at Quincy refers in a tender letter, 
in which he says: 

Jka n^Mj t" Ltnjtt laufh a/nJ c/ron) oLflu Ji^V a^ /fu. 

One, sending a photograph of the silver spoon which has the 
Adams coat of arms on the back, with which the "little cherub" 
used to eat, says, " It was formerly in tlie John Adams family and 
all the children have eaten from it, I suppose. It is used every 
day by tlie Mrs. D. C. Woods family and shows that a few genera- 
tions have bit it, but the .Adams bite was as carefully done as all 
their other acts, and so it is not as mutilated as many spoons but 
a few years old. " 

On returning to Quincy. the ex-President wrote to his son 
Thomas, who was then in Europe, with some asperity as to the 
rewards of public service. He was speaking of the return o[ Mr. 
John Quincy .Adams to .America just previous to his election as 



J T-t^fciL*^ y*-L*V fiAj^ -^Zl. ^^ ^ ^jL^,f^ «*v^ X-W*. ^i**« *.?^Wt, 

(du^ tl^ tAM^w-v.^ Ja.iui <rr'i:u^ "^ -so'.i*>i c-.>v?^ <;.<?*7^ -^^t^-^^ ,*-r-c*« . ^^■>'>^^'^'^ 
°^ a^ „ ^^ iu^t^ l>,^^ ^M. ^4^ .5^^Ly y^^^.^-^,^ •>u_<i<f 






I I I IhR I ROM JllllN ADAMS 1" lll..\|\- |.i\l>H)N AhAM- 



THE FAMILY OF JOHN ADAMS. i ^q 

senator, hoping that the young diplomatist would " have nothino- 
more to do with politics in a public station," and adding, " //" / 
tvci'c to go over my Life again I lootcld be a shoemaker rather than 
an American statesman ; " then records with pleasure of Thomas's 
mother that " a fine night's sleep has made her as gay as a girl." 

Mrs. Adams writes to her son-in-law that he may tell Mrs. 
Smith she has commenced her operations of dairywoman and may 
be seen at five o'clock in the morning skimming milk, and that 
Mr. Adams is in his fields attending to his haymakers. 

The patriot pair truly were of the people, elected to high places 
by the people to serve the people, and returning again to the 
people. 

For nearly eighteen years they enjoyed together a simple and 
united home life. Fireside pleasures, quiet and security had been 
denied to their lot all their married years up to 1801 — depriva- 
tions accepted with a Spartan sense of responsibility to their time 
and their country. After Mrs. Adams's death in 1818 the old 
President writing to his granddaughter, Mrs. De Windt, said of his 
wife : 

" She never by word or look discouraged me from running all hazards for the salvation of my 
coinitry's liberty. She was willing to share with me and that her children should share with us 
both in all the dangerous consequences we had to hazard." 

The heaviest sorrows that came in the retirement at Ouincy 
were the deaths, first of their daughter Mrs. Smith, then, a few 
years later, of Colonel Smith. 

An intimate intercourse always had been preserved between 
the two families. The daughter was always returning under the 
old roof, and to the grandchildren the Quincv farm was another 



,^0 '^'11 ^-^ J-iMll.y 01- JO II. \ ADAMS. 

home. Mrs. Smith, trained by a life of variety and the highest 
society of her time, had ripened into a woman worthy of her 
mother's intellectual companionship. Mrs. Adams during the 
remainder of her life deeply missed her daughter as a friend. 

Both parents from the first had had sentiments of fondness and 
pride for their daughter's husband. The gayety of spirit and 
geniality of feeling which Colonel Smith possessed arc not often 
united in the same person with the energy and commanding 
executive ability which characterized Mr. Adams's son-in-law. His 
superior ability and disposition were perhaps most conspicuous in 
his work as an army officer. 

During the most depressing season his men were in good 
spirits, full of esprit dc corps. In camp the huts for his men were 
alwavs completed before he would let a stick of his own be laid. 
1 le had a " way with him." Me would not admit the fact that the world 
was not going right. There is an instance of this in a letter to 
his wife which illustrates his |-)rnnipt, crisp way with his command: 

" No officer or soldier, or even any of the inhabitants, dare say it's cold in camp. A laughable 
circumstance occurred the other morning, just after the beating of the reveille drum, when the 
siftfacc of the earth was covered with a strong frost. I w.-is walking to the huts, was overtaken by 
a counlrvman who had brought poultry to market ; who communicated his errand, and said, rubbing 
his hands, and teeth chattering, ' 'tis a plaguy sharp morning, Cohmcl ; 'tis terribly cold.' ' Are you 
cold, mv friend ?' ' Ves, ver\-.' ■ Here, sergeant of the guard, take this friend of mine, put him by 
the guard (ire, put a sentinel over him, until he is about half roasted ; for no man must be cold in 
this camp. And every man hereafter who imagines himself so, and presumes to express it, must be 
roasted ; for it is a fine pleasant morning, and the weather will continue fine until our huts are 
built.' The countr>-man had nut long been by the fire, before he l)egan to Iwg. I kept near ; at 
length he called t.i me, ' For goodness sake. Colonel, let me go ; they'll roast me I Forgive me this 
time, and if 1 am half froze to death, I'll never say it's cold, when I am in camp again.' I let him 
off in a perspiration. It is now fine fun for the soldiers j if any of them happen to say it'> cold, 
his comrades take him, neck and heels, and carry him to the fire, and amuse themselves much with 
this trifle. I.ct it be ever so sharp, the soldiers say ' it's a beautiful fine day, huzza ! ' " 




MISS ELIZAl;Kril 



MS, A|- SKVENTY-sia'EN. 
(Daushlcr of Tlwmas Boylsto,, A Aims, n„d ukcc of John Quiucy Ada, 
Front photograph made in 18S5.) 



THE FAMILY OF JOHN ADAMS. 143 

He says of his men, in the same winter : 

" Our canij) is a military paradise ; if I lool< they are solicitous to understand it — if I speak they 
jump to execute ; in short they are all obedience, and I am more placid and elegantly serene than 
ever you saw me; I think sometimes, if you could but remark me through the day, you would be 
half in love with me by tca-tinie." 

He was for many years Surveyor of the Fort of New York and 
Inspector of Customs, and also served his countrymen in Congress. 
He died in 1816, in Lebanon, in Central New York, where he 
owned large tracts of the country. The descendants of this .Smith 
family are scholarly people. Mrs. Caroline De Windt's volumes 
of her parents' letters are known to all students of history. One 
granddaughter is the wife of Mr. C. P. Cranch the artist. Another 
of the family is the wife of Mr. Clarence Cook the art-critic. 

Mrs. Adams lived to see her eldest son, John Ouincy, a 
ruler in the political affairs of his ccnintry, his sagacity and states- 
manship acknowledged by his fellows. He was serving as Secre- 
tary of State under President Monroe at the time of her death. 
Mr. Adams lived to see him the President of the United States. 
He was an aged man then. The high honor and the pride 
his townsmen felt at his son's success must have filled the heart of 
the venerable patriot with tides of pleasure and satisfaction. When 
the result of the election was assured, a delegation from Boston went 
out to Quincy at midnight to inform the old President. The 
congregation at church the day before had been broken in upon 
by the arrival of an old gentleman from Dorchester who entered 
and announced, just as the minister was reading his text, that their 
fellow townsman, the Honorable John Ouincy Adams, had been 
elected President, when great cheering and clapping filled the house. 



,^^ THE FAMILY Ot- JOHX AlK\.\rS. 

Judge Tlioinas Hoylston Adams and his family lived with Mr. 
Adams after the death of Mrs. Adams. A visitor at Quincy saw 
the aged patriot in the last months of his life, when he was over 
ninetv ; he says, " When all were seated at table two servants 
siukknlv entered the dining-room bearing the old President, 
arravfd in white flannel, in an arm-cliair, where he was seated at 
the right of Mrs. Thomas Buylston Adams ; " he further describes 
him as hale, with a kindly aspect and face unwithered. He pre- 
served the use of liis intellect throughout life and an interest in 
public affairs, receiving up to the last public men as his guests. 

" Montezillo " (a pretty little mountain) as Mr. Adams some- 
times playfully designated his home in allusion to President Jeffer- 
son's estate, " Monticello " (a beautiful mountain), came with the 
bulk of Mr. Adams's property into the possession of the eldest son, 
who made it his family home during his life. 

Judge Adams died in 1S32. His sons, inheriting military tastes 
from their father, were all educated for their country's service, 
either in the armv or the navy. Tiiere were four sons and two 
daughters. Two of these are still living in Quincy, at the old 
house, Mr. Hull Adams and his sister Elizabeth. Miss Adams, 
who is a great traveler and loves to meet those surviving of the 
earlier generations, at eighty writes letters with the light touch and 
sparkle of a Sevigne ; in a note a few weeks ago, describing some 
characteristic Adams training, she says: 

" I h.ivt been lonp acciistomcd tn wrilinj; letters. begiiiiiinR I think when ciRht ve.irs old, con- 
tiniiinp iip to the time when I write myself eighty years instead of eight. My mother sealed us at 
the table to show us hcu' to write letters, and one of our first efforts — my sister Abigail, older than 
I _ was to write to a Quaker ladv in Philadelphia for a Quaker doll dressed in gray silk and 
(,)uaker cap, pincushion and knitlini; at the side, a perfect copy of the Quaker style of dress. 



THE FAMILY OF JOHN ADAMS. 145 

" This doll became famous at the Centennial Exhibition where I sent it as a present to the 
Museum, it having been dressed by a Philadelphia lady, Mrs. Butler, whom my father was very 
fond of, and all her family. I had the pleasure of seeing it in its new abode during the Exhibition, 
and the lace scarf that had been worn by Mrs. Abigail Adams, the same, I think, that Stuart painted 
in her portrait. My mother often said she was rewarded in after-life as her children were away 
from her so much and always writing her from whatever country they visited." . . . 

In the same note she says : 

" We are enjoying a pleasant day, and the crackers remind us that the Fourth is near. They 
do observe the day as our Grandsire John desired — by the firing of cannon and ringing of bells, 
and illuminations ; hut he diJ not say crackers" 

" Grandsire John " and his wife sleep in the stone church at 
Ouincy, where they worshiped, and the beautiful mural tablets 
tell their virtues and their fame to all the congregations. But 
the enduring monument to his memory is the Adams Academy 
built by the fund created by him for that purpose ; it stands on 
the site of the birthplace of John Hancock. It is a classical school 
for boys, one of the great feeders of Harvard College. 

In his deed of gift the practical old President says: 

" I hope the future master will not think me too presumptuous if I advise them to begin their 
lessons in Greek and Hebrew by compelling their pupils to take their pens and write, over and 
over again, copies of the Greek and Hebrew alphabets, in all their variety of characters, until they 
are perfect masters of those alphabets and characters. This will be as good an e.xercise in chirog- 
raphy as they can use, and will stamp those alphabets and characters upon their tender minds and 
rigorous memories so deeply that the impression will never wear out, and will enable them at any 
period of their future lives to study those languages to any extent with great case." 

So long as the story of the struggles of the various peoples on 
our globe for independence and self-respect continues to interest 
each fresh generation, John Adams is secure of his honors. It was 
to posterity that he looked for his full dues. 



III. 

THE FAMILY OF THOMAS JEFFERSON. 



THE FAMILY OF THOMAS JEFFERSON, 



CHAPTER I. 



SCIIOOI, DAYS IN FRANCE. 




MUG BELO.\(;lN(; TO THOMAS 
JEFFERSON. 



THE little people of Thomas Jefferson's 
family had nearly the same surround- 
ings as the Custis children. Their father's 
estate, Monticello, was a domain of several 
thousand acres, and their mother, like Mrs. 
Washington, was a woman of fortune. They 
were of the aristocracy of Virginia, their 
home was stately, they were accustomed 
to slaves, and to proffer and accept the 
generous hospitality which abounded among the Southern plant- 
ers of those days. 

Of the six children three only survived their mother, who died 
ten years after her marriage; and these were daughters. But no 
man was ever better fitted by nature to rear a family of girls 
without the mother's help than Thomas Jefferson. 

Like little Miss Abigail Adams in Massachusetts, these Jeffer- 
son girls had a taste of the terrors of the Revolutionary War; 
they had to fly from home with their mother when the British 



l^O ^^/^' JAM 1 1. V or THOMAS I JllKKSOX. 

generals, Tarlcton and Cornwallis, came through Virginia. Their 
father, who was (.io\ernt)r of the State at that time, made hut a 
hair-breadth escape. Tlie home-mansion, .Monticello, a beautiful 
place in the Blue Ridge region, was preserved from harm by 
Tarleton ; but on another estate owned by JelTcr.son, where Corn- 
wallis took po>.session, the barns were burned, crops destroyed, 
stock driven off or else cruelly killed, and the slaves carried away 
to die wretchedly. These financial losses he must have felt, for 
there were si.x adopted children in his family ; si.x little nephews 
and nieces — fatherless else — sharing all things with his own 
children. This grievous "fortune of war" befell in the last 
year of Mrs. Jefferson's life, and her eldest child, Martha, was nine 
years old at the time. 

The little girls left to Mr. Jefferson were Lucy, Martha and 
Mary. Of Lucy, who was a baby when her mother died, the 
family traditions are few. She is said to have inherited the 
musical tastes and gifts of both parents. We are told that 
the little creature at the age of two and a half years listened to 
music with six'll-bound interest and that she wept when a 
performer struck a false note. She died f)f whooping-cougii a 
short time after her mother's death, while in the family of her 
aunt, Mrs, Eppes ; the little Lucy Eppes and the little Lucy 
Jefferson both " fell sacrifices " — " two sweet Lucys," writes Mrs. 
Eppes to Mr. Jefferson, who is in iMaiKc. 

Both ^Lartha and Mary reached maturity. Two months after 
Mrs. Jefferson's death, Mr. Jefferson received an appointment as 
Plenipotentiary to France, and >Lirtha accompanied him to the 
Old World. The baby Lucy, as we have seen, was left with Mrs. 
Eppes, and so was Mary. They expected to sail immediately, but 



THE FA MIL Y OF THOMAS JEFFERSON. 1 5 i 

Congress kept Mr. Jefferson in Philadelphia for some time, and 
Martha, then eleven years old, was placed in school where she was 
carefully taught for a few months. 

From the day of her mother's death, tliroughout Mr. Jefferson's 
whole life, Martha, or " Patsy " as he lovingly called her, was his 
companion, and in later life his counselor. While in Philadelphia 
we find her, like a great many grown people of those days, haunted 
with the many superstitions of that time, and writing her fears to 
her father as to the end of the world being near. He replies : 

"I hope you will have good sense enough to disregard those foolish predictions that the 
world is to be at an end soon. The Almighty has never made known to anybody at what time He 
created it ; nor will he tell anybody when He will put an end to it, if He ever means to do it." 

It is during this little separation from his daughter that we first 
see Mr. Jefferson endeavoring to take the mother's place. We find 
from his letters that he insists that Martha shall be perfectly tidy 
in appearance, tliat she shall always have her hair neatly combed. 
In the morning, as well as evening, she must never be seen by any- 
body carelessly attired, especially not by gentlemen — he writes her 
that his sex despises slovenliness. But we are not told whether 
little Miss Jefferson needed this advice or heeded it if she did. 
At any rate, in 1784, she went abroad with him, entered a French 
convent-school where she staid for several years, and after careful 
search we find no mention of her being careless in dress or person. 

The little American was very lonely at first. The change was 
great from a Virginia plantation where she had opportunities to 
ride, play among the flowers and with the tame deer, say her 
lessons to her indulgent father and have almost the freedom of a 
bird, to a convent where she knew no one and could not even 



1^2 J HI- lA.MII.y OF THOMAS J El- J- J: R SON. 

converse with the children, for she spoke no tongue but her own. 
She long used to weep for her father's absence many times during 
the dav: ami then wher. he did come, at evening, she wept again 
— fir.-.t for joy and then because she knew he must soon go. But 
she was no different from any little girl in that respect ; and she 
soon grew to enjov the convent-life. In a year from that time 
she is writing a long happy letter to .Mrs. Trist of I^hiladelphia • 

•' I .1111 very happy in the convent, and with reason, (or there wants nothing but the presence 
of my friends of America to render my situation worthy to be envied by the happiest ; I do not 
say kings, for, far from it, they are often more unfortunate than the lowest of their subjects. I 
have seen the King and Queen, but at too great a distance to judge if they are like their pictures 
in PhiKidclphia. We had a lovely passage in a beautiful new ship, that had made one passage 
before. There were only six passengers, all of whom papa knew, and a very fine sunshine all the 
way, with a sea that was calm as a river. . . . We landed in Kngland, where we made a very 
short stay. The d.iy we left it we got off at six o'clock in the evening and arrived in France at 
eleven the next morning. I can not say that this voyage was as agreeable as the first, though it 
was much shorter. It rained violently, and the sea was exceedingly rough all the time and I was 
almost .IS sick as the first time, when I was sick two days. The <iiA;«c was not more than three 
feci wide and about four feet long. There was no other furniture than an old bench, which was 
fast to the wall. The door by which we came in at was so little that one was obliged to enter on 
all-fours. There were two little doors on the side of the cahmit, the way to our beds, which were 
composed of two boxes and a couple of blankets, without either bed or mattress, so that I was 
oblige<l to sleep in my clothes. There being no window in the <tihant, we were obliged to stay in 
the dark, for fear of the rain coming in if we opened the door. I fear we should have fared as 
badly at our arrival, for papa spoke very little French, and T not a word, if an Irish gentleman, an 
entire stranger to us, who seeing our embarrassment, had not been so good as to conduct us to a 
house, and was of great service to us. It is amazing how they cheat strangers; it cost papa as 
much to have the baggage brought from the shore to the house, which was about half a square, as 
the bringing it from I'hiladelphia to Boston. From there we should have had a very delightful 
voyage to I'aris, for Havre de Grace is built at the mouth of the Seine, and we follow the river all 
the way through the most beautiful country I ever saw in my life — it was a perfect garden — if 
the singularity of our carriage (a phaeton) had not attracted the attention of all we met ; and when- 
ever we stopped wc were surrounded by beggars. One day I counted no less than nine when we 
stopped to change horses. ... I wish you could have been with us when we arrived, I am 
sure vou would have laughed, for we were obliged to send immediately for the stay-maker, the 
mantu.vmakcr, the millinei and even a shoemaker before I could go out. I had never had thc/r/j<-«r 




PKKSIDENT JEKFERSIJN. 
{From thcpaintiug by Gilbert Stuart, lunu ow,u:d by Mr. T. Jiffenou Lmlidge, Boston.) 



THE FAMILY OF THOMAS JEFFERSON. i^^ 

but Diice ; but I soon };ot rid (if him and turned diiwn my hair in spite of all they could 
say ; and 1 defer it now as much as possible, for I think it always too soon to suffer. I have seen 
two nuns take the veil. I'll tell you about that when I come to see you. I was placed in a convent 
at my arrival, and I leave you to judge of my situation. I did not speak a word of French, and 
no one here knew English but a little girl two years old, that could hardly speak French. There are 
about fifty or &\x\.-j pensioners in the house, so that speaking as much as I could with them I learnt 
the language very soon. At present I am charmed with my situation. . . . There come in 
some new pensioners every day. The dasse is four rooms, exceedingly large, for the pensioners 
to sleep in ; and there is fifth and sixth, one for them to stay in the day, and the other in which 
they take their lessons in. We wear the uniform, which is crimson, made like a frock, laced 
behind, with the tail, like a rohc de com; hooked on, muslui cuffs and tuckers. The masters are all 
very good except that for the drawing." 



The young American had the approval of all her instructors, 
and was immensely popular with her schoolmates who, we learn, 
addressed her as "Jeff" and " Jefifie." With many of them she 
corresponded for years after her return to America, and some of 
the rattling, nonsensical letters of those long since dead-and-gone 
young demoiselles still exist, their century-old diction very quaint 
now. Among her friends outside the convent were Miss Abigail 
Adams, who with her parents was for some time in Paris, and 
young George Washington Lafayette. 

She came forth from the convent (in a manner to be told here- 
after) a good linguist and a good musician, having taken more kindly 
than Miss Nellie Custis to her harpsichord practice. Her frequent 
letters to and from her father had formed no unimportant part of 
her education as a young woman of wit and graceful expression, 
and she entered with ease the polished society where the versatile 
and refined Mr. Jefferson was a conspicuous favorite, and greatly 
enjoyed the brilliant scenes at the court of Louis the Sixteenth. 
Presently, however, we find her father laying down the rule that 
she should attend onlv three balls a week ; and no matter how 



'56 



rHK J-AMILV OF THOMAS JKJ- 1- ERSON. 



attractive the fourth one, Miss Jefferson did not attend it. When 
we learn how very fond she was of dancing, afid how she entered 
into it with her whole soul we can realize that the father under- 
stood the daughter, and knew exactly what restriction she needed. 
It was during their first year abroad that little Lucy died. 
Mr. jctTerson then became very an.vious to have Mary with 
hini. 1 le wrote Mrs. l-^ppes to send her; but little Polly — that 

was her pet name — was 

very reluctant at the 
thought of leaving her 
aunt and cousins, and she 
shows this in her answer 
to some of her father's 
letters — little notes in the 
pot-hook chirography of a 
child just beginning* to 
write, each letter a quarter 
of an inch long. One 
reads : 

"Dhar PvI'a.— 

I long lo sec you and hope you and 

sister are well ; give my love to her and 

tell her I long lo see her and hope you 

and she will conic very soon to sec us. 

I hope you will .send nie a doll. I am 

very sorry you have sent for mc. I don't want to go to France, I had rather stay with Aunt 

Eppes. Aunt Carr, Aunt Nancy and Cousin Polly Carr are here. Your most happy and dutiful 

daughter, roliv Jkkkkrson." 

The autograph li-tter rLjiroducing the round letters of her 
chirography, shows the good training she had had at home. 

These letters, showinii how fond she was of her foster-home. 






FAC-SIMII.K l.KTTER I)Y LITILE l"OLLV JKKFERsON. 



THE FAMILY OF THOMAS JEFFERSON. ic- 

undoubtedly stimulated Mr. Jefferson to have the little writer with 
him. He wrote to Mr. Eppes, in the spring of 17S6, stipulating 
just the kind of a vessel she must set sail in, and just what time of 
year she must come; he closed this letter by saying: 

" Patsy is well, she speaks French as easily as English. I commit to Mrs. Eppes my kisses for 
dear little Polly who hangs on my mind night and day." 

Poor little Mary, notwithstanding her hoping and praying to 
be left in Virginia, was finally sent abroad. Having found a ship 
of such a kind as Mr. Jefferson wished her to sail in, her friends 
took her aboard several times, her cousins going with her ; and on 
a certain day, during one of these visits, when she was worn out 
with romping she fell asleep — and then all her friends went ashore 
leaving her with a servant. When she awoke the vessel was out 
at sea and she tossing about in her berth, knowing each roll 
was taking her away from Aunt Eppes and Jacky Eppes. Her 
heart was nearly broken to think she had been thus treated. She 
arrived safely at London where Mrs. John Adams cared for her till 
her father sent for her. Mrs. Adams thus speaks of her little 
guest in a letter to her sister: 

"I have had with me for a fortnight a little daughter of Mr. Jefferson's who arrived here 
with a young negro girl, her servant, from Virginia. A finer child for her age I never saw. So 
mature an understanding; so womanly a behavior and so much sensibility united are rarely to be 
met with. I grew so fond of her and she so attached to me that when Mr. Jefferson sent for her 
they had to force the little creature away. She is but eight years old. ■'^he would sit sometimes 
and describe to me her aunt who brought her up, the obligation she was under to her and the love 
she had for her little cousins, till tears would stream down hev cheeks, and how I had been her 
friend and she loved me. Her papa would break her heart by making her go again. She clung 
round me so that I could not help shedding a tear at parting with her. She was the favorite of 
every one in the house. T regret that such fine spirits must be spent in the walls of a convent. She 
is a beautiful girl too." 



,r8 Till: FAMIIV OF inO.\rAS JF.FFFNSON. 

Mrs. Siiiilh, Mrs. Adams's daughter, describes her as an 
animated Httlc tiiiiii;, all vivacity, with none of the softness of her 
elder sister's manner. 1 ler maid was only si.xteen, and they seemed 
two irresponsible children. .Mrs. Smith disapproved strongly of 
Mr. Jefferson's educational plans for his daughters. 

The child reached France shortly before her ninth birthday. 
She was very homesick, especially missing her merry playfellow, 
lacky Kppes. But the French children liked her at once; they 
called her " Mademoiselle Po-lie," and afterwards " .Marie," which 
finally became "Maria" — a name which she adopted and by 
which her friends addressed her during the later part of her life. 
While in Paris she did not apply herself to studies and music, 
although she profoundly admired her sister's diligence and 
proficiency. 

It was not long after " .Mademoiselle Po-lie's " arrival that this 
accomplished elder sister, supposed to be well-attached to the 
Episcopal church, wrote to her father from the convent saying 
she would like to be a nun. Mr. Jefferson did not answer the 
letter, but in a dav or two drove to the convent, and took away both 
children, putting Martha, as we have seen, into society where she 
forgot all her newer religious convictions ; and " Mademoiselle 
Polie," it is to be presumed, got some entertainment from the lib- 
erty and change. 

The family returned to America in October, 17S8. The pas- 
.sagc was remarkably unpleasant. They had many storms and 
were greatly belated. Finally, as they were in sight of their native 
land, the place for which little Polly had never cca.sed to mourn, 
their ship took fire ; but after a .severe fright to all on board, it 
was saved from bein<f consumed. 




MKS. MAKIHA Jl-.FII.K.SON RANDiJLrn. 
(From the miniature by Sully ; lum owiicdly Mrs. John \V. Burke, Alexandria, Va.) 



THE FAMILY OF THOMAS JEFFERSON. i6i 

Mr. Jefferson's slaves having been notified of "tlie family's" 
approaching return, made a holiday of the day of the arrival and 
from all the estates assembled at Monticello to receive them. 
They walked down to Shadwell, four miles, to meet them, and 
when at last they spied the carriage the air was filled with shouts 
of welcome. The horses were unhitched and the delighted crowd 
drew their master's family up the mountain to his own door. 

Martha was a tall stately-looking girl of seventeen and Maria, 
now eleven, was a most beautiful child ; and as the two girls 
walked between the long lines of enthusiastic negroes and heard 
the " God bless you's," and " Look at the chiluns," and " Ain't our 
Miss Patsy tall .?" and "Our dear little PoU)^ bless her soul ! " can 
you think they did not thrill with love for " Old Virginia " } 

However, it is but justice to the girl of to-day to set down the 
fact that Patsy and Polly noticed great differences between the peo- 
ple of "Virginia and those of Paris, and that sometimes they longed 
to go back to the Old World, rit first their American friends, 
as a modern girl would express it, seemed "poky." But they 
soon outgrew that ; and no woman in the world ever loved a home 
more than Martha Jefferson loved Monticello. In her later life, 
after reverses came, and Monticello fell into the hands of stran- 
gers, she was a great many years in giving up the idea that she 
should some day, in some way, have it restored to her. 

It is to be regretted that there is nothing which can be given 
as a portrait of Martha Jefferson as a girl. The miniature by 
Sully was painted when she was about sixty years old. There is 
a youthful portrait, an engraving, constructed from the Sully 
painting, where the cap and wrinkles are removed and curls placed 
upon the cheeks, but every vestige of likeness is likewise removed. 



I62 



THE J-AMJl y OJ- TJIOMAS JEJ-IEKSON. 



CllAITl'R II. 



PlIlLADtl.rillA AMI rilK will I I IIDISK 




si'i;ak-iii)W1. iih:i.oNc;iN<; 

Til TIK'MXS JIJ'l ERMIN. 



\ the December alter the return t(i America, 
Mr. jeffersf)!! became Secretary of State in 
Fresitlenl W'asliiiit^ton's cal)inet ; and in l'"eb- 
ruarv Martha was married to ihomas .Mann 
Rand(jlph, a .second cousin. Young Randolph 
had been educated at tiie L'niversity at Edin- 
burgh and had visited Paris during the resi- 
dence of the jeffersons. There began the attacliment between 
the young people, and perhaps it was Thomas as much as Jeffer- 
son who influenced Martha to abandon the determination to enter 
a nunnerv. lie was a man of fortune, chivalric and handsome — 
"a man," Jefferson says, " of science, .sense, virtue and compe- 
tence." Both he and Mrs. Randolph were fond of study and 
they read and made researches together, and kept up the most 
beautiful ideal of family life. They resided near by. on Edge- 
hill, the Randolph estate. Mr. Randolph was at one time a 
Governor of Virginia, and alway> a man of influence. 

Little Polly lived with her sister, and we find Mr. Jefferson, 
while at his public duties, writing to both his daughters, show- 
ing all the old-time care. Of Polly, or Maria, he asks whether she 
sees the sun rise every day } How many pages she reads in Don 
Quixote? Whether she says her grammar evcrv day .•• How 
many hours she sews.'' Whether she continues her music.'' 



THE FAMIL Y OF THOMAS JEFFERSON. 



l6- 



Whether she can make a pudding or cut out a beefsteak ? If she 
has sown spinach ? And funniest of all he wants to know if she 
can " set a hen " ? Poor little Poll}' ! if she had done daily all her 
father wished she would have been busy indeed. She however 
did not do it; we find from her childish letters, which are very 
interesting, that .^lie answers almost all of the questions in the 
negative. She says she has been traveling and has not had time 
to do as he wishes, but that she is reading Robertson's History of 
America, and later we do find her reading Don Qiiixoic every day 
and reciting English and 
Spanish grammar. Still later 
she recounts the making of 
one pudding. But before she 
got ready to " set a hen " her 
Aunt Eppes gave her one and 
some chickens too. In one 
letter he inquires — for Jeffer- 
son was a veritable John Bur- 
roughs at heart — what time 
the swallows and whip-poor- 
wills make their spring ap- 
pearance in Virginia, and 
Polly replies that she is too 
much taken up with her chickens to notice birds. 

The whole series of letters from the busy Secretarv of State to 
his daughters is the most charming reading imaginable. Bluebirds, 
golden-willows, lilacs, redbud and dogwood, guelder-roses and robin- 
redbreasts constantly appear in the notes, and he sends seeds of 
flowerincT-beans. This observation of nature was a laroe resource 




JOHN WAVLES EPPES ("JACKV" EPPES.) 
{From the engraving by Si. Mcmiii.) 



1 64 '^J"- l-iMIl.y OF niOMAS JKJ'IERSON. 

in liis later years. 1 le was a gardening, farming statesman, keep- 
ing a diary of tlie arri\al of plants and birds, setting out cedars 
to tempt the mocking-birds to build around Monticello, and corre- 
sponding with another farmer-President, George Washington, 
whom he frequently visited at Mount Vernon. He strove wisely 
to develop the same delight in out-of-duors life in his daughters, 
though he does not neglect either to instruct them minutely by 
letter as to the newest fashion of tying a veil in New York and 
Philadelphia. 

In i-gi he came home and carried away the little Polly to 
Philadelphia to live. They stopped on the way to visit at Mount 
Vernon, and Mrs. Washington took possession of the shv little 
beauty and kept her until she went on to Philadelphia herself. 
Her father writes that she i> " particularlv happy " with mis- 
chievous Nellie Cu>tis. In Philadelphia she was a great favorite 
in the Presidential circle, much beloved by Mrs. Washington, and 
receiving charming attentions ixoxw her old friend, the \'ice- 
President's wife, Mrs. John Adams. Jackv Kppes was there too, 
studying hard at law and politics. The house had pleasant 
grounds, and she and her father lived " under the trees." Mr. 
Jefferson writes to a friend that he never goes " into the house but 
at the hours of bed"; they breakfasted, dined, wrote and read 
and held receptions on the grass under the tall plane-trees. 

When not at Philadelphia she spent her time between her 
sister Martha and her aunt Mrs. Eppes. You will remember that 
when the ship carried "little Poll " away from her native shore it 
was this aunt and her cousin Jacky Eppes for whom she grieved 
especially; and when she was married, in October. 1797. it was the 
dear little cousin Jack who became her husband and who was 



THE FAMILY OF THOMAS JEFFERSON. 



165 



remarkably devoted to her always. Her father, then Vice-Presi- 
dent, had received the announcement of the engagement "with 
inexpressible pleasure" — he would have chosen Jacky Eppes for 
his little Polly if he " had had the whole earth free to choose from." 

In 1 80 1 Mr. Jefferson was declared elected President, and he 
moved into the barren, draughty, barn-like White House at 
Washington, in whose unfin- 
ished rooms Mrs. Abigail 
Adams had spent the previous 
winter subject to various hard- 
ships. 

It had been a bitter cam- 
paign, and Mr. Jefferson would 
have preferred the quiet of 
Mnnticello and his studies, 
rather than the duties of the 
E.xecutive Mansion. He had 
been declared by his opponents 
a foreigner in his tastes, un- 
American, un-patriotic, a 
French infidel. This latter designation particularly embittered 
New Englanders against him. Some even went so far as to believe 
that if he should be elected, Sunday would no longer be observed, 
and that churches would be closed throughout the country. The 
" Great Cheese," presented to him shortly after his inauguration, 
was a tribute sent by that section of the New Englanders who had 
faith in him. It came from the Berkshire hills of Massachusetts. 
Upon his election, Elder Leland, of Cheshire, who had preached 
sturdy electioneering sermons in the pulpit, proposed to his flock 




SILVER PLATE KELONCINC. Tl) I'HOMAS JEFFER- 
SON, NOW OWNED IIY T. JEFFERSON COOLIDGE. 



,56 TJIK lAMIIV t)F J/JO.)f.lS / /://■/■: A SON. 

that they shcnild celebrate tlie victt)ry by making fur the new Presi- 
dent the biggest cheese the world had ever seen. Dr. Cutler, a 
Member of Congress at that time, thus describes the affair: 

" Kvcry n«.-in and woman who uwnctl a cow was lo yivc (or lbi> chetsc all thr milk yitldcil on 
a ccrl.iin clay — only no ^r-./r/vi/ .iTc must conlribulc a drop. A huKC tidcr-prc.ss was fitttd up to 
m.Tkt' il in, and on the appointed day the whole county turned out with pails and lulls of curd, the 
girls and women in their best gowns and riblKiiis, and the men in their Sund.iy coats and clean 
shirt-collars, 'rhe chee.se was put to press with prayer and hymn singing and great solemnity. 
When it w'.vs well dried it weighed si.\tecn hundred pounds. It was placed on a sleigh, and KIder 
l.cl.ind drove with it all the way to Washington. It w.ts a journey of three weeks. .MI the 
country had heard of the lii^ chiesu, and came out to look at it as the lildet drove along." 

.\t the first Levee held Ijy President Jefferson, the big Massa- 
chusetts cheese was on siK)W. Tlie following Sunday " Leiand, 
the cheese-monger," preached before the two Houses of Congre.ss 
from the te.\t, '^ Attd behold a gnaUr than Solomon is /un\" "much 
to tlie adulation of the President," it is said, " though shame and 
laughter appeared on the faces of the representatives and senators." 
In 1805 a portion of the " mammoth cheese " was still in exist- 
ence, and was served at a Levee, along with cake and a great 
urn of hot punch. 

During his administration his sons-in-law, Mr. Randolph and 
Mr. Lppes, were both Members of Congress, but Mesdames Patsv 
and Polly spent little time in Washingtt^i, Mrs. Dollv Madison, 
the wife of the .Secretary of State, presiding at the .State dinners. 
In the winters of 1S02-3 both sisters were at the \\'hit( I louse 
some time and went somewhat into society. 

During their stay at the White House, Mrs. Randolph's tldest 
daughter, .Anne, was deemed old enough to appear at a ball in 
Washington. This she did with some companions under the 



THE FAAflLY OF THOMAS JEFFERSON. 167 

chaperonage of Mrs. Madison ; and Mrs. Ellen Harrison, a orand- 
daughtcrof Mrs. Randolph, has related for us, an amusing incident 
of her fair .Vunt Anne's first evening in society. Brought up 
among the mountains of Virginia, the young girl had not before 
been in "grande toilette." Mrs. Randolph, seeing a lovely fair- 
haired girl entering the room, turned to Mrs. Cutts, Mrs. Madison's 
sister, to know who she was. Mrs. Cutts exclaimed, "Heavens! 
woman, don't you know your own child.''" Mrs. Randoljjh, it 
need not be added, was near-sighted. 

Mrs. Eppes, unlike most beautiful women, was timid and 
reserved among strangers. It is said that wlien she entered a 
room all eyes were turned to her, all admired her beauty, but that 
before they left a reception, it was Mrs. Randolph, who was much 
plainer, that held the attention with her conversation and her 
queenly manners. Each earnestly wisln-d to be like the other. 
Maria believed that Martha possessed knowledge of every kind, and 
Martha considered no woman in the world so beautiful as her sister. 

There is no portrait of Mrs. Eppes. But tradition has but one 
voice about dear little Pollv, and that is that slie was supremely 
beautiful with her regular features and glorious head of auburn 
hair. This sunny auburn hair was so beautiful that people who 
remembered nothing else of her still retained that in memory. 

Mrs. Randolph, in culture, would have graced any court of 
Europe, and she enjoyed her life at the White House — it was her 
first glimpse of the great world since she had shared in the delights 
of the brilliant scenes at the Court of Louis xvi. She presided 
with ease, and White House society in her time was much less 
formal than under the rule of Mrs. Washington and Mrs. Adams. 
She however was very domestic, and of her twelve children she 



,68 '^'^H-'- lAMIl.V OF THOMAS J KJlfiRSON. 

educated six daughters herself; these girls never went to any 
other school. 

I'or some years Maria i^rew steadily delicate in healtli ; she 
died in Ajiril, 1S04, leaving a boy named Francis, and having lost 
a little Maria. Poor little Polly! She always had seemed like a 
beautiful, diftidenl child, so modest, so retiring. I ler loss was a 
groat grief to her father and one from which he never fully recov- 
ered. That he might be less lonely, during the winters of 1805-6, 
Mrs. Randolph resided in the M.vecutive mansion and here was 
born her second son, James Madison Randol])h. who was the first 
child born in the White House. 



THE FAMIL Y OF THOMAS JEFFERSON. 



169 



CHAPTER III. 



AT MONTICELLO. 




B' 



lUT the happy times for all were at 
Monticello, where the President, the 
most delightful of grandfathers, paid long 
visits. Whenever he came, it was a signal 
for the Edgehill family to move up to 
remain during his sojourn. One and an- 
other of these grandchildren were with him 
in Washington sometimes, but the free 
joyous life at Monticello was best. The 
place had been twenty-five years in the building. Parton says: 



THE MARIE ANTOINETTE VASE. 

{Owned by the late Mrs. Meiktehatiiy 
Washington, D. C.) 



" At that time there was not an artistic edifice in the whole of North America. Strange to 
say, this Virginia planter, who had never seen a beautiful house of any kind, was an enthusiastic 
architect, and he was determined to build a house which an architect would approve. His bricks 
had to be made on his own estate and under his own direction. The timber was felled and hewn 
by his own slaves ; the nails were wrought in his own little nailery, wherein for thirty years he kept 
from four to ten of his men making nails for the county. The wheel-barrows and wagons were 
made on the estate. When the house was getting ready for the sashes, he had to send to London 
for them, and a portion of the sashes were detained there a whole month to let the putty harden. 
Nearly all the furniture was made by his own slaves from drawings executed by himself. The 
plan of the lawns, shrubbery and gardens, as well as the paths through the woods, were all the re- 
sult of his own knowledge and taste." 



Monticello means " little mountain." The mansion with its 
great piazzas stood on a summit; and wild breezes and wide 
sweeps of vision do promote joy even in a child. It was an inex- 



I JO ilH'- JAM J J. y OF THOMAS J RIFKK SOX. 

haustiblc playground, with the forest at the back, the long pavil- 
ions, the oriental freedom of the strolls and runs on the roofs, the 
terraces and lawns where President Jefferson set the children at 
races after tea, giving the smallest "a good start " by some yards 
and then — "one, two, three — go!" dropping his white handker- 
chief; the prize being three figs. There were games in the great 
hall, and there was school in the magnificent billiard-room — the 
" ball-room " so called, although it was never thus used or thus 
designated in the time of the JefTersons; neither was it used for 
billiards; because before its completion a certain gentleman of 
means in Virginia had become such an inveterate billiard-player 
that he was losing all his fortune and a law was passed making it 
unlawful to play, and Mr. Jefferson did not have the tables put up, 
but converted it into a schoolroom for the children. 

His grandchildren were, if possible, e\en more devotedly 
attached to Mr. Jefferson than his daughters, both of whom con- 
sidered their father's love " the great good of their lives;" the 
beautiful Mrs. l-!|)pes passionately longed for talent that she might 
" become a more suitable companion for her father." These little 
people, in turn, from first to last flooded his life with sunshine. 
1 le writes of one of them : "dear little Anne, with whom even Soc- 
rates might ride on a stick without being ridiculous; " and as fast as 
they grow old enough to hold the pen he inveigles them all, one 
after another, into the most charming correspondence; time-worn 
and yellow, many of these childish letters still exist — folded and 
scaled without envelopes, quaintly addressed across the backs to 
" President Jefferson," and bearing written postmarks. 

There is reproduced here a letter from a certain little Cornelia 
among them, with the grandfather's reply. 



THE FAMILY OF THOMAS JEFFERSON. 



171 



He liked to devise all manner of conveniences for the Monti- 
cello house and its flock of little people — odd cupboards and desks 
and closets. He planned the little doll-house shown here ; he 
drew the design and one of the negro carpenters built it. It was 
made for one of Mrs. Randolph's daughters, the little Septimia — 




iMONTICELLO, THE HUME OK l'KEblUl-.iN 1 JEl'l- EKSON. 

named " Septimia" because she was the seventh cliild. I saw it 
the other day in Washington, in the possession of its first owner, 
a beautiful old lady now, who loves to dwell upon her childish days 
at Monticello.* In this cabinet she used to keep all her dolls, their 
furniture and their clothes, and many playthings. Her children 
and grandchildren have long since disposed of those articles, but 

* Mrs. Septimia Jefferson Randolph Meikleliam died after the above was written — in September, 1S87. 



TUl: J- AM II. y or THOMAS JEJ-FEKSOy. 



the cabinet still stands in her parlor. On the top shelf are the 
chessmen her Cirandfather Jefferson used for many years. In the 
right-hand corner of the lower shelf, you will see a wooden jar 
whose cover has a little round knob; this once contained a small 
cut-j^lass bottle which held a half-pint of attar of roses — a present 
to Mr. Jefferson from the Hey of .\Igiers, and valued in this country 
at six hundred dollars. The great quaint vase, too, is in the same 
parlor; it belonged many years ago to Marie Antoinette, and after 
her execution it was brought to this country to a relative who gave 
it to the Jefferson family. 

To encourage his grandchildren to love flowers President Jef- 
ferson used to give the tulip and iiyacinth bulbs queer names, 
and many of tliem possessed queer names from the florists. While 
he was planting them he would formally introduce them to his little 
helpers and these names , 



were also attached to little 
sticks set in the beds. All 
this of course interested 
them, and it was amusing 
to hear the little ones call- 
i ng, " Come, G r a n d p a ! 
come ! Marcus .Aurelius 
has his head out of ground." 
" The Queen of the .Ama- 
zons is coming u]>!" Mr. 
Jefferson was trulvfond of 
flowers, and on his final re- 
turn to Monticello in iSog, 
having served eight years 



fJio.r CroLneutapa 



exoude my fa/Zymtcna 
fer it cd Yne /t^c/f M= 
=Z^c/ cire.r wrolt thtTE 
OyTe a. nnjL^wer ^ iim& 
/^ a / {mow, mc M^^ 



vffTi m 



THE FAMIL V OF THOMAS JEFFERSON. 



wDlA, u7 a.M, iJu cJut =. 



71 



as President, his first worlc 
was among his flower-beds. 
All branches of natural 
science were of interest to 
Mr. Jefferson. His tastes 
got this bent in his college 
days at William and Mary. 
He used to declare that 
mathematics was the pain 
of his life. Whatever he 
was interested in became a 
"passion." During his res- 
idence in France he kept 



four colleges in his native 
country informed of current 
discoveries and inventions 
in Europe, fie sent over 
home, from Paris, at an im- 
mense expense, for the 
bones and skins of moose 
and caribou to convince 
the French savants that 
America was not a land of 
pigmies, and that the Cau- 
casian race was not likely 
to deteriorate upon the soil 
of the New World. He had 
the horns of every speci- 



L^ dee y^u. vi^y ?nu(fi 

FAC-SIMILE LETTER BY PRESIDENT JEFFERSON'S 
LITTLE CHANDCHILD, CORNELIA. 



Crry-jj-e/yH^ Li\Ai\-an^ 4Jnt/t^A yKv*»v;«7 a>» J/ /y\^t,*»^\A~. ^~]^;Cti <x_<i/-v<, ctx^W/ 
- ht^ i^r~ ^JJ r\4^'>r- \^^JLjLyiKi- lA^ffl'.'^^ ^ ♦n*tV< u^-t/»-»^Z&E^ Oe/^^^ <-*<- t-*«^^ 

C*tun<>*-i^^^ He^vrnLji^ ^tjiyt\XLjLttj3 owrCJ ■t^.dxj /^-r #n«- ^n^ry-f wiVrvirw^ ; A*^»^ 



FAC-MMIil. Ill UK IIV IKhalDLM JKll tkSO.N ; KKl'l.Y lu l.hirhk UN I'RKl KI...N(; I'AUt. 




SEI'IIMIA KAN-noi.I'H (MRS. MEI KLEHA.M.) 
/ tlic painting by Edward May; in tile possession of the Misses Meiklelmm.) 



THE FAMILY OF THOMAS JEFFERSON. i-jj 

men of American deer in the great hall at Monticello, together 
with the bones of a mammoth. When he removed to Philadelphia 
to take hib place as Vice-President, in the Adams administration, 
he transported thither the skeleton of a giant edentate which had 
been dug up in Virginia, to present to the Philosophical Society; 
the creature was named for him : Megalonyx Jeffcrsonii. Doubt- 
less his daughters were rejoiced to see the bones depart from 
Monticello. But he never lost his interest in fossils, and at one 
time he had over three hundred in the White House, storing them 
in some of the large unfurnished rooms. He sent many of these 
collections, afterward, to various scientific societies in the Old 
World. 

As his granddaugliters grew into young ladyhood he still 
planned pleasures for them ; from the grandfather came the beau- 
tiful saddles and bridles (all Virginia girls were good horsewomen), 
the watches — "my Bible came from him, my Shakespeare, my 
first writing-table, my handsome writing-desk, my first Leghorn 
hat, my first silk dress," writes his grandchild Ellen (Mrs.Coolidge). 

Mr. Jefferson himself, like Washington, was fond of horses, 
handsome equipages and handsome dress, despite what has been 
said of his " republican simplicity." He may have ridden horse- 
back up to the Capitol for his inauguration, as goes the popular 
myth, but he meant to have had a fine coach-and-four for the occa- 
sion — only Jacky Eppes did not get to Washington with them 
in season. He may sometimes have been seen carelessly attired, 
but often he flashes out, in contemporaneous record, in his 
white coat, scarlet breeches and vest and white silk hose, fit to 
figure on a Watteau fan. His manner had a touch of French ])er- 
suasiveness. In person he was tall and flexible, with a kindly blue 



178 



-////•. I'AMII.y Ol TIIO.\fAS lEI-FF.RSOiX. 



eye, reddish fine soft hair, 
fair Hushed complexion, 
and a nmbile cast of feat- 
ure. 

Mrs. Kaiulolph had 
ideas of her own aljout 
the education of girls. 
She insisted that her 
daughters should learn 
fearlessness. She never 












,^ y*"- 



l.lrllK I'KllM MKS. KAMoJl.l'K I) III 

IIMC.IITKR SKITI.MIA (MRS. 

Ml IKI hll\M.) • 






spoke harshly to them, 

!• .^ cc^*-- "z^-^ ;>:^ . /.i— w ^ />>~w| ^^^^ .-illowed any one else 

1****" ^ ■ ^ . 1 ■ ^> ■-< . - ^ "^ 

Ex.^ t^/^'^ '■"f-A'^^C n/f to do so. She iieard their 

. :?.^ .«< , ^^ t> ^ 1^^:;L lessons her.self and taught 

^ ^ ti c-c^ >/"»^ "^ *^ ^"-^''^ them to love music not .so 

^ -« ^ A.- *-^ ■**••' ""^ """^"^ much as an accomi)lish- 



ment as a resource of en- 

• tertaiiiment in solitude ; 

she alwavs sang and 



THE FAMILY OF THOMAS JEFFERSON. 



179 



played to them at twilight. She daily talked French with them, 
and gave them her own broad views of historical reading. Now 
Septimia, the little " seventh child," was rather different from the 
others; at any rate she did not learn as easily. She never could 
be taught not to be afraid of spiders, and she had a great dislike 
to French as a study, in fact she 



never mastered it as a child. 
She liked better to chase through 
the hall with the President of the 
United States to catch her, and 
to snarl and tumble his locks 
with her little side-combs. But 
within the last few years she has 
taken up the language with the 
aid of a dictionary over a 
hundred years old, laugh- 
ing at the idea of waitino- 
sixty years and then doing '' ;'''' 
the thing her mother 
wished her to do. She was 
the only daughter whom 
Mrs. Ra.xlolph did not 
herself educate. When a 
little girl spending the 
winter in Boston, she per- 
suaded her mother to allow 
her to go to school, but 
gained her permission only 
on condition that if she 



"^H -V 




DOLL-HOUSE. 



{Dcaigited by President Jefferson for his tittle g;randdiiugliter 
Se^tiniin—Mrs. .■\fei/.-leliajn.) 



iSo '^^1''- J'AMll.y Oh THOMAS J KFJ-I'.KSOy. 

began she should CDiUinue during their stay. She became a favor- 
ite with her teacher and they have corresponded ever since tliat 
time, although the pupil is seventy-three and the teacher ninety- 
nine. 

Says Mrs. Harrison (the daughter of Thomas Jefferson Ran- 
dolph): 

" My aiiiUs, except Mrs. Mcikltham, never IlicI .t governess or went to a regular school. My 
grandinother, with all the duties of mother, mistress and hostess, found time to teach them, and 
aid materially in the education of a family of Governor Randolph's nieces who lived in the neigh- 
Ixtrhood. She had the h.ippy faculty of inspiring them with such a thirst for information that they 
never lost an opportunitv for self-culture, and were highly cultivated women. \ irginia, Mrs. N. 1'. 
TrisI, dying at eightv, congratulated herself the year before her death that she could at last read 
Don Qui.\ole in the original I She began the study of Spanish when she was the mother of three 
children. Their moderate income entailed on them labors which were often burthcnsome, but 
amidst them all, there was a regular system of intellectual culture kept up." 

Possibly none of Martha Jefferson's cliildren came so near 
being an "own cliikl' to Mr. Jefferson as his namesake, Thomas 
Jefferson Randolph. Me was Martha's oldest son. He was his 
grandfather's delight in youth and, as Jefferson expressed it, the 
"staff of his old age. ' His daughter. Miss .Sarah Randolph, says : 

" At Madi-son's first inauguration he was a la<l of seventeen years, and was his grandfather's 
sole companion as he rode, in those days of republican simplicity, up Pennsylvania Avenue on 
horseback from the President's house to the Capitol where grandson and grandfather, dismount- 
ing, hitched their horses to the paling, and the latter went into the Congressional halls to see the 
fjovernnient pass from his hands into those of his friends." 

The relations between l*re>ident Jefferson and himself were 
really tho.se of father and eldest son. After the President's death 
he was the head of the family, endeavoring to make every one feci 
that Kdgehill (his home) was as nearly Monticello as it could be 




T. JKFFKRSON RANDOLPH. 
{From aji old daguerreotype.) 



THE FAMIL Y OF THOMAS JEFFERSON. 



183 



made by him. He was his grandfather's executor. President 
Jefferson's will is still preserved. Says a Washington paper : 

" Among the old records stored away in the vault at the District building is a copy of the will 
of Thomas Jefferson, filed in the archives of the District years ago, so long ago that no one con- 
nected with the District government to-day knows the purpose for which it was placed on record 
there. This old document is dated March 16, 1S26. It bequeaths to his grandson, Francis Eppes, 




EDGEHILL, THE HOME OF T. JEFFERSON RANDOLPH. 



lands at Poplar P'orest, and subjects all his other property first to the payment of the debts of the 
deceased. In consideration of the insolvent state of the affairs of his son-in-law, Thomas Mann 
Randolph, he leaves the residue of his property in trust for his daughter, Martha Randolph, to be- 
come hers absolutely at the death of Thomas Mann Randolph. This course, the will explains, is 
taken to secure the property against the claims of Mr. Randolph's creditors. A codicil attached on 
the following day recommended to his daughter, Martha Randolph, the maintenance and care of his 
well-beloved sister, Annie .Scott Marks, gave to his friend, James Madison, of Montpelier, his gold- 
mounted walking stick of animal horn, 'as a token of the cordial and affectionate friendship 
which for nearly now an half century has united us in the same principles and pursuits of what we 
have deemed for the greatest good of our country.' He gave to the University of Virginia such 
books in his library as the university had not already copies of, and the remainder to his two 
grandsons-in-law, Nicholas P. Trist and Joseph Coolidge. To his grandson, Thomas Jefferson 
Randolph, he gave his silver watch in preference to his good one because of its superior e.xcellence, 



1 84 



TlIK lAMll.y OI- THOMAS JEJ-IRRSOX. 



uiul also all hLs literary papers. lie proviilcd also for llic piircliasc nf a gold walcli for each of liLs 
(•ramlsons. 

■" I give,' continues the will, • to my good, affecliunalc and faithful servant, Kurwell, his free- 
dom and the sum of 5jOO to liuy necessaries to commence his tr.-ide of painter and glazier, or to use 
otherwise as he pleases. I also give to my good servant. s, John llennings and Joe Kevsct, their 
freedom at the end of one year after my death ; and to each of them respectively all the tools of 
their respective shops or callings, and it is my will that a comfortable log house be built for each 
of the three servants so emancipated on some part of my lands, convenient to thcni with respect to 
the residence of their wives and to Charlottesville and the university, where thcv will be mostly 
employed, and reasonably convenient also to the interests of the proprietor of the lands, of which 
houses I give the use of one, with a curtilage of an acre to each during his life or personal occupa- 
tion thereof. I give also to John llennings the .services of his two apprentices, Madison and 
Eston llennings, until their respective ages of twenty-one years, at which period respectively I 
give them their freedom. And 1 hundily and earnestly request of the legislature of Virginia a con- 

tirniatiun of the bequest of freedom to these two servants, with pcr- 
-^if" -"^g^ rs mission to remain in this .state where their families and connections 

- ^ ~^'' '='■'* -^ '-^ arc, as an .idditional instance of the favor of which I have received 

so many other manifestations in the course of my life, and for which 

1 now give them my last solemn and dutiful thanks.' 

" The will bears a certificate showing that August 7, t.S;6, it was 

proved in the Court of Albemarle County, Virginia, and ordered to 

be recorded." 



Martha K'ffcrson was much at Edgchill 
after President Jefferson's death, and j^rand- 
daughters of hers h"ve there still. In the 
winter, when the trees are stripped of their 
leaves, a glimmer is seen of the white columns 
of the portico at Monticcllo, which is about 
two miles distant across country. The de- 
;kkkkkson's < ank. parture from Monticello was almost insujjport- 

CMT ,.,rri,j i,y j,/rrr,»„ „«j ablc to Mrs. Randolph. On a bit of paper in 

If/I l-r «•;// 10 I'midrHt M.uli- 

u,H.w*..u nu.nf rrtHrm,^ ,1 u< onc of hcr iiotc'-books. and supposed to have 

iJu JtJfrrtoH /,tmi/r : Ikt /v,/r 

nofh^rK. x.^. m f^.,r,si,-H bccn writtcii after the loss of her home, 

•/ Mr. r JiffrrtoH CMliJgt, 

HoH0H) were found these pathetic words : " There 






PRESIDENT JEFP-ER.S(JN. 

(F,-o,„ tlu profile /.ortr.ut by GilLcrt Stuart. Tl.is fortrait ,i thought by the Jeffcrso,, fa.nih to sho,v as „o otiur does 

the l.ea„ty a,..l foUe of his head. Inpossessto,, .,/ Mr. T.Jefferson Coolidge, 'sosto,,.) 



THE FAMILY OF THOMAS JEFFERSON. 187 

IS a lime in Jmman suffering when succeeding soi'roivs arc but like 
sncnv falling on an iceberg^ 

She had decided for the support of herself and family to open 
a school for young ladies ; but before her plans were perfected the 
States of North Carolina and Louisiana each gave her ten thou- 
sand dollars. One of her sons received a civil appointment and 
she with the unmarried members of her family moved to Washing- 
ton in 1829; but each year she visited alternately at Edgehill 
and with her daughter, Mrs. Coolidge (Ellen), in Boston. She died 
at the age of sixty-five. 

Little was done by President Jefferson for his own personal 
emolument. He no doubt took his share of happiness as life 
passed, but the prosperity and development of his country dwelt 
uppermost in his mind. He felt that the best material wealth for 
America lay in the direction of a mi.xed agriculture, and he sought 
in all ways to acclimatize good grains, good fruits and the best 
breeds of domestic animals. Mr. Parton relates many interest- 
ing incidents illustrating his devotion to this idea : " When he was 
Minister to France he made an extensive tour in the southern 
parts of Europe, observing closely and recording minutely methods 
of culture, the systems of land tenure, the agricultural implements, 
the habits of the people and their condition in the various prov- 
inces." On this same tour, he " had infinite difficulty in procuring 
some of the Piedmont rice unhulled.the best in the world, the seed 
of which it was unlawful to export. After buying some sacks of 
the see<l, and making secret arrangements to have it forwarded to 
America, he was still a little fearful of failure, and filled all his 
pockets with the precious seed, which he carried away with him. 
It proved a wise precaution, for his sacks never reached him. He 



,8S '^^H' J-i'^fJjy oi-- rnoMAS jKiiiiRSoy. 

divided the little seed he carried in his pockets among his friends 
in the rice district of South Carolina ; to each thirty or forty 
t'-rains, urging upon all the importance of personally watching the 
growth of the new species. In a few years the Piedmont rice 
was domesticated in South Carolina, and as the seed proved con- 
genial to it, the rice grown in that State was accounted the best 
in the world." 

Kqually duminant was his desire to increase the means for the 
spread of learning among his young countrymen, and to this desire 
the University of Virginia stands a monument. But long after its 
stone shall have crumbled, its founder will still be remembered as 
the author of the Declaration of Independence. 



IV. 
THE FAMILY OF JAMES MADISON. 



THE FAMILY OF JAMES MADISON. 



CHAPTER I. 



AT MONTPELI.IER. 




|N a September day in 1794 a gay party in 
carriages and on horseback left the national 
capital, Philadelphia, to drive down into Virginia, 
to the home of Skipworth Washington, a nephew 
of the President; a drive of two hundred miles 
MRS DOLLY MAi.L q,. ^q ^^.^^g thought nothlng of in the days of the 

SON S EAR-DROPS. o o J 

(Owned by her grand- Washingtons and Jeffei'sons. 

niece, Mrs. Adile Cults 

ivuiiams: tiie stones In the opcn barouchc sat a pretty woman 

fire amethysts, hnng irt i i • i 

qnnint gold chains that whose Ouaker garb did not hide her rosv cheeks 

form the letter " M" 1 1 1 • 

^ohen pendent. Given nor conccal hcr happmcss. In the same carriao-e 

to Mrs. Madison Cutts l • i i 1 i ^ 

by Mrs. Madison.) was a littlc clark-cyed boy about three years old, a 

smiling girl, very fair, of twelve, and a servant. 
A small stately gentleman, nearly twice the age of the youno- 
Ouakeress, rode by the side of the carriage. This gentleman — 
whom a certain Presidential descendant writing in our own day 
describes as a "small man, cpiiet, somewhat precise in manner, 
pleasant, fond of conversation, with a certain mixture of ease and 
dignity in his address" — seemed to enjoy greatly the delight of 
the young members of the party. 

191 



iga 'i'lH- JAMIL y 01- JAMl:S MAPISOX. 

The "precise, pleasant" gentleman was James Madison, at that 
time a Member of Congress from Virginia; the young woman 
with the dazzling complexion was Mistress Dorothy Todd, only 
very lately made a widow, and Mr. Madison was escorting her to 
her sister's home where she was to be married to him. I-'our years 
before, Dorothy Payne, hardly nineteen, pleasing her father, had 
been made the wife of Mr. Todd, a lawyer of Philadelphia. \ year 
later a son had been born to them, and a year and a half later 
another child had been given to them, and in the following six 
months both husband and baby had died. Grief does not long 
abide by the young, and now, scarcely a year from the time she 
became a widow, we see her riding through the Virginia woodlands, 
the merriest of the party. 

The smiling little girl was her sister .Anna who had lived with 
her since her marriage and who occupied a daughter's place in her 
heart. The dark-eyed child was her son, John Payne Todd. 

Mistress Dolly was not yet twenty-three. The portrait of her 
in a Quaker cap, from a miniature painted at about that time, shows 
how exquisitely pretty she was, though the lovely pinks and pearli- 
nesses of her complexion and the fine blackness of her silken tresses, 
brows and lashes cannot be given in the crude black and white 
of ink and paper, nor the sweetness of her blue eyes. She was 
wondrously fair. Her mother, who would not permit her to wear 
jewels, taught her to take care of her complexion. She was sent 
to school with long gloves on her hands and arms, a close sunbonnet 
and a white linen mask on her face ; in fact it is plain to see that in 
manv ways great attention was bestowed upon the outward as well as 
the inward graces of the young Friend. Though born a Quaker baby 
— it was in 1772, about half a dozen years later than Miss Abigail 



THE FAMILY OF JAMES MADISON. 193 

Adams in Massachusetts, and half a dozen years earlier than Nellie 
Custis in Virginia, and the same year as Martha Jefferson at Mon- 
ticello — little Dolly (who was so fond of jewelry that she used to 
wear a grandmother's gift of ornaments around her neck hidden in 
a little bag) grew up with a love for dainty clothing; certainly a 
more exquisitely broidered and frilled little Quakeress than she of 
the miniature has seldom been seen. There is in existence still, 
belonging to this period, a delicate gray satin Quaker gown, with 
elbow sleeves and square neck, worn by the young beauty — Dolly 
certainly may be called a beauty. Her mother and grandmother 
before her, on one side of the house, had been great belles, and 
little Dolly was dowered with sweet looks as well as with a Scotch 
simplicity and an Irish irresistibleness of manner — she shared 
the Irish wit and good-nature with her famous second-cousin, 
Patrick Henry. 

The mature statesman with whom Mistress Dolly was about to 
wed must be described in graver terms, such as suit his sober 
attire. Mr. Henry Adams in his History of the United States, 
i8oi-i8o§, quotes from a certain writer of Madison's time : 

" In his dress he was not at all eccentric or given to dandyism, Ijut always appeared neat and 
genteel, and in the costume of a well-bred and tasty old-school gentleman. I have heard in early 
life he sometimes wore light-colored clothes , but from the time I first knew him . . . never 
any other color than black, his coat being cut in what is termed dress-fashion ; his breeches short, 
with buckles at the knees, black silk stockings, and shoes with strings, or long fair top-boots when 
out in cold weather, or when he rode on horseback, of which he was fond . . . He wore pow- 
der on his hair, which was dressed full over the ears, tied behind, and brought to a point above the 
forehead, to cover in some degree his baldness, as may be noticed in all the likenesses taken of him." 

Mrs. Madison's grandniece, writing a hundred years later,* 
tells us how her young great-aunt met James Madison. It was in 



194 '^"^- '■■^''^f"'^' OJ- JAMKS M.IDISOX. 

Philadelphia, whither she and her little boy and her mother (who 
was also a widow) had returned, and where her reputation for 
beauty was so great that •;entlenien stationed themselves at j)oints 
she was to pass in order to see her. Mr. Madison saw at 
last the young Virginian widow one day. and invited .Aaron Burr 
to call with him u|)(iii Mrs. I'.iyiR' ami inlroduie him, and during 
the visit Mrs. Dolly came down " in a mulberry colored satin, and 
a silk tulle handkerchief over her neck, and on her head an 
e\c|uisitelv dainty little cap from which an occasional uncropped 
curl would escape." 

Mrs. Todd must have resembled much a famous young Ouaker- 
css beauty of the same period, described bv a brenchman traveling 
in America, the Prince de liroglie; writing of her — Polly Lawton 
of Newport — he says : 

"She wore a species nf Knglish gown, pretty close to the figure, white as milk, anil a tuhii 
very full and firmly fastened. Her head-dress was a simple little cap of very tine muslin plaited 
and p,issed around the he.id, which allowed only half an inch of hair to he visible, but which had 
the elTcct of giving to I'olly the air of a Holy Virgin." 

.All the friends of Mrs. Todd rejoiced that she was to be married 
to Mr. Madison, though he was twenty vears her senior. Mrs. 
Washington sent for her to come to the Presidential mansion, and 
then, " Dolly," said she, " is it true that you are engaged to James 
Madison.''" Dollv was embarrassed, and stammered that she 
" thought not," whereupon Mrs. Washington e.xhortcd her to " not 
be ashamed to confess it." for Mr. Madison would make her a good 
husband. 

There was a delightful old Virginia wedding, of that kind de- 
scribed by Mrs. Fremont in her Souvenirs of My Time, at Hare- 




MISTRESS DOLLY TODD {AFTIiRWARDS MRS. MADISON). 
{A i twenty-two ; from the miitiature on ivory, now owned by Mrs. Richard D. Cutis.) 



THE FAMILY OF JAMES MADISON. igy 

wood, the home of her sister, Mrs. Skipworth Washington. The 
house was filled with young girls from the neighboring country- 
seats, and it is recorded that these gay young creatures snipped 
into bits " the Mechlin lace from Mr. Madison's shirt ruffles," to 
keep as mementos and showered the carriage with rice as the 
bride was driven away to her husband's home, Montpellier, a coun- 
try estate in Orange County, Virginia; Mr. Madison always spelled 
the name with two I's ; he said it was a " Yankee notion " to use 
only one. 

To Montpellier the two children came the next month, and 
little Payne Todd always remembered the j^lace as the home of his 
childhood, for though Mrs. Todd was rich and Pa3'ne had a large 
fortune by his own right, Mr. Madison adopted his wife's son into 
his love and care. Like Monticello — which was but twenty-five 
miles away, so that the Madisons and Jeffersons were neighbors — 
Montpellier was a true children's paradise. The house, garlanded 
with roses and jessamines, stood on a sightly slope sheltered at the 
north by the Blue Ridge Mountains. It possessed a great hall' and 
a spacious many-columned portico where on rainy days the two 
children played dolls and hop-scotch and marbles, and where their 
dignified adopted father and his half-dozen brothers and sisters had 
played before them ; for ^Montpellier was an old place, the original 
Madison estate, taken up only fifteen years after the settlement of 
Jamestown. ^Outside, was a boundless playground, three thousand 
acres more or less. At the very doors were deliglitful old gardens, 
and ancient trees which hid from view the cabins and outbuild- 
ings that always clustered around a planter's house, whence long 
paths led away, bordered with silver pines. But the new children 
liked best a certain urcat fruit garden of Grandmother Madison's. 



igS THE /AM/LV OF J.IMI-.S Af.l/)/SOX. 

There the old French gardener, who had laid it out in terraces 
shaped like a horseshoe, worked constantly, keeping it in perfect 
order. The choicest flowers grew all about. Altogether Mont- 
pellier was a beautiful place to which to take two city children in 
autumn, just when the grapes were purple and bursting with juice, 
the peach-trees heavy with golden fruit, the figs sweet, the chrysan- 
themums and dahlias vigorous and bright, and the myriad trellises 
a gorgeous tangle of scarlet and yellow vines. 

Here little Payne began to learn his letters and to read under 
the guidance of his young mother, who, child-like in her impulses, 
found him altogether companionable. They romped and played 
on the broad lawns, took walks and drives together, sometimes ac- 
companied by Anna, and possibly they told stories such as their 
imaginations suggested — it is safe at any rate to say they never 
sat silently reading books for hours, or stole about studying the 
habits of birds like Master John Quincy Adams. F'or although Mrs. 
Dolly Madison in her old age enjoyed the reputation of having 
been the most popular lady of the White House, she never was 
possessed by a love for study, and made no pretensions to being 
learned; and though in after life she sometimes wrote to her nieces 
to send her books, she almost invariably asked for a novel, and it 
was not unlikely that she would return it only half read. Mr. 
Madison was a scholar, a Princeton man with a record of studying 
twenty-one hours out of the twenty-four, and had become known 
as a statesman in very early manhood; he habitually gave his 
attention to the gravest questions of theology and law, and was 
very profoundly concerned in the making of a good system of gov- 
ernment for the young Repuljlic, and he kept to his studious 
habits wherever he was. During those lovely honeymoon days at 



THE FAMILY OF JAMES MADISON. igg 

Montpellier, he must often have looked out from his books upon 
his young wife at play with the children ; and her sunshiny pres- 
ence, when she came in upon his solitude, must have been some- 
what like the advent of a butterfly, with whom, of course, it was 
impossible to discuss subjects so grave as the injustice of primo- 
geniture and entail, the folly of any union of Church and State, or 
the error of depending upon the labor of slaves. Within a few 
years, however, Mrs. Madison was to become an accomplished 
letter-writer, and her conversation such as to interest men and 
women of all degrees, high and low. 

Payne and Anna were mostly at Montpellier during the next 
few years. In those early days the future society man liked the 
plantation far better than Philadelphia, where Mr. and Mrs. 
Madison necessarily lived a greater portion of the time. Here he 
could wander about the negro quarters and listen to stories and 
songs. Certain hours of the day he might spend with Mr. Madi- 
son's mother whom he was taught to call "Grandma." As he was 
a mischievous child, it is natural to suppose that he enjoyed these 
visits far more than did the gentle methodical old lady. 

The apartments devoted to the elder Mrs. Madison's use were 
very interesting; they were filled with rich old mahoganies, old silver, 
old china, old pictures, old books; she herself, later in life, is described 
as occupying a favorite old chair, with her knitting-, and waited 
upon by a slave nearly ninety years old, with hair as white as wool, 
and who frequently fell asleep standing behind his mistress. How- 
ever, Grandma Madison was not confined to a chair at this period, 
and she strove to interest her little caller with stories of the youth 
of his grave new father ; but Master Payne did not care to be told 
how hard any one had studied — though he did rather enjoy hear- 



200 THK lAMILY Ol- JAMES MADJSON. 

ini; that the I'rinccton boys wont out one nir^ht, voiini; Mr. Madi- 
son among thcni, and built a bonfire to burn "in effigv " the letter 
of the New York merchants who loved money better than they did 
their country, and broke their word after the colonies liad solemnly 
promised one another not to buy anything more of Great Hritain, 
writing the Boston merchants that they should buy from England 
all they pleased* — Payne liked to hear again and again how the 
students burned the letter and tolled the bells; he thought it must 
have been very good fun. But he was not interested to hear about 
his cousin, Mr. Patrick llenry, and the great speech when his 
kinsman cried for all time, " (iive mc liberty, or give me death !" 
Nor was he at all particular to have it fixed in his memory in what 
year Jamestown was settled. He liked better to hear about 
Indians, wolves and shipwrecks. Nevertheless Grandma Madison 
was fond of him. He was ver)' handsome, \crv winning, and the 
old colonial dame stood his friend in many a reprehensible piece 
of boyish mischief. Later he was placed in school in Baltimore, 
in the special charge of the Bishop of Maryland. 

.Anna enjoyed Philadelphia instead, where she had glimpses of 
her sister's friends — of President and Mrs. Washington, ajid 
Nellie Custis, and the Adams family, and her Virginian neighbor, 
the beautiful Marie Jefferson. When she was at Montpellier for 
home visits, like all young persons of her age she carried on a 
brisk correspondence with her girl friends ; but the letters did not 
treat of politics or grave affairs like those of Miss Abigail .Adams, 
They were narratives of social events and chronicles of the where- 
abouts and doings of their friends, with saucy comments on fash- 
ions and beau.x ; those young men they denominated by fictitious 

*9xf: AlUmlic .UoMlhly ("T April. |H!W. 



THE FAMILY OF JAMES MADISON. 2OI 

names. A young lady in Philadelphia, writing to Anna of the 
spring styles, informs her that frizzed hair is no longer allowable, 
that bonnets have slashes in them through which the hair pro- 
trudes, and that sleeves are worn short with no rutilles — her 
exact words are these : " as for elbows, Anna, ours would be 




MMX I ri.1,1,1 1 



alabaster compared to some ladies who follow the fashion." 

A girl of fourteen with her hair parted in the middle, combed 
smoothly over her ears and brought into a knot high upon her 
head and altogether visible through the top of her bonnet would 
be at any time a subject for smiles ; but complete her dress with a 
long, tapering waist, full bunchcd-up skirts, short sleeves and col- 
ored leather slippers — and she becomes a laughable caricature. 
A girl of fourteen to-day is a schoolgirl, but in 1796 she was a 
young lady ; and despite the costume described Anna must have 
looked well, for she had many admirers and shared the praise be- 



202 ill I: JAM I J. y Ol' JAMI-S MADISOy. 

Stowed upon her distiiit;iiishecl sister. Slie was gay, fond of danc- 
ing, and a smiling and sympathetic talker. The jjortrait of her, 
by Stuart, in the slu)rt Josephine bodice, was made at about the 
time of her marriage, when she was in Washington with the Madi- 
sons during the Jefferson administration. She was a favorite with 
this fashionable painter of the great people of the time; he liked 
to talk with her, and when. she said to him one day, during a sit- 
ting, that it was a thousand pities there should be no portrait of 
himself made for hi> friends, he replied that In- would paint him- 
self in upon the canvas of her portrait; and accordingly he 
painted the drapery into an amusing likeness of his ])rofile, merrily 
burlescpiing the nose. 

Mr. Madison became President Jefferson's Secretary of State; 
and as Mr. Jefferson's daughters, Mrs. Randolph and Mrs. Mppes, 
could not be much in Washington, Mrs. Madison and Anna usually 
presided at the state dinners of the White House. Mr. Jefferson 
and liis daughters were very fond of Mrs. Madison, whose sweet, 
unselfish, sympathetic and sunshiny nature fitted her to bean ideal 
" family friend "; she not only came at call to do the honors of the 
President's House, as the Executive Mansion was termed in those 
days, but was ready to "go shopping" at anv time in behalf of the 
family at Monticello — we often find her choosing sashes and 
brooches and wedding gowns for the various young Randolphs. 
She was genuinely fond of i hildren ; and during the winter that 
Mrs. Randolph spent at the White House, when the baby, James 
Madison Randolph, was born there, Mrs. Madison often came 
around with the carriage to take the other children away for the 
day — the little X'irginia and Cornelia and Mary — "that miracle 
of beauty " — in order that the family rooms might become quiet for 



THE FAMILY OF JAMES MADISON. 203 

tlie cradle-naps. On one of these occasions she delighted the hearts 
of her little charges by giving them new dolls all round. When- 
ever she went home to Montpellier there always was a dusky 
swarm of pickaninnies of all ages and sizes, following about at her 
heels expecting a " sweetie " or a smile, and the mothers were as 
confidently sure of new gowns and aprons for their noisy broods, 
all planned and cut by Mrs. Madison's own hands. 

It was always a great day at Monticello when Mrs. Madison 
arrived with Mr. Madison for her yearly visit. Reminiscences of 
these festivities abound in the family talk of the Jefferson descend- 
ants to this day. She usually came for a month's stay. Mrs. 
Ellen Harrison, the granddaughter of Mrs. Randolph, said not 
long since, speaking of these visits : " Mrs. Madison helped the 
older girls with their darning and fancy work, made clothes for the 
dolls, told such lovely fairy talcs and was so sympathetic and kind 
that the youngest never hesitated to call on her kindly aid. On 
one occasion the little Benjamin Franklin (degenerated into Ben!), 
seated next Mrs. Madison at breakfast, found himself unequal to 
the management of his muffin. Mrs. Madison's aid being invoked, 
she took the knife to cut it, but a little hand was laid on hers, and 
an earnest voice exclaimed : 

' No, no ! that is not the way.' 

' Well ! how then. Master Ben } ' 

' Why, you must tear him open and ]iut butter inside and 
stick holes in his back, and then pat him and squeeze him and 
the juice will run out ! ' 

" Mrs. Madison, much amused, followed his directions. Any 
lover of the English muffin will appreciate their wisdom." 



.'04 



nil: I- AM II y ()!■ JAMES MADISOM. 



CU \ V \ V. K II. 



IN \vasiii.\(;t()n. 





9 





MKb. lu>Ll.V MADISON. 
At ffritui 0/ the rreiuiency ; from .1 
mtMMtHrf 0M ivory, ^inted in iMi; 
(W 1H14, Htnv in poisttiion i]f Mrs 
M.idiiOH Cntts. ) 



I\ 1S04 Anna was married to Mr. Cutts 
of Maine, a Member of Congress 
tlicn, and for many years afterward, so 
that, greatly to Mrs. Madison's joy, her 
sister was frequently with her in Wash- 
ington during the winter. Mr. Cutts was 
a gentleman of wealth and education, very 
handsome, gay like his smiling young 
wife, and a conspicuous figure in the so- 
cial life of his da\'. -Although the wed- 
ding was a fine affair, the presents ac- 
cording to the custom of the time were 
sini|)lv tokens of love, planned and made by those who gave them 
— embroidery, paintings, and original poetry. Madame Daschcolf, 
the wife of the Russian Minister, sent the usual wedding-])rcsent 
of her countrv : two wine-coolers, one filled with salt — the essence 
of life, the other with bread — the staff of life. 

After the wedding Mrs. Madison wrote to a friend : ' One of 
the greatest griefs of my life has come to me in parting for the 
first time from my sister-child." 

At first, .Anna and her husband used to drive in their own car- 
riage from Maine to Washington for the sessions of Congress. 
Later Mr. Cutts built a fine house, still known amontr the older 





Vlli:-VV\\V\\\AAAA\T\«V«VV^^lATp7| 










^^^^^^^^^H 






H^^^^^^^^M 




i 


. . . . . . ^\^^^^\^\\•i^^^■v■iVl■^w^^i, 











Ktc'IIAKll I 



vmrdlyMrs. Ki,Jk,inf /> Cntn./r.) 




ANNA I'AVNE rUTl'S. 
(Fromtlu paiiitiug by Gilbert Stuart, cnuiied by Mrs. Richard D. Cutis Jr. ) 



THE FAMILY OF JAMES MADISON. 209 

Washington families as " the Madison house ; " it is on the north- 
east corner of Lafayette Square. The whole Square belonged to 
Mr. Cutts then, and was one great garden and greensward, and by 
and by Anna's children frolicked about the pleasant place, picking 
gooseberries and currants where the Riggs banking-house now 
stands ; and Mrs. Madison went across from the White House and 
helped nurse all the little people through the measles. 

It was in 1809 that Mr. Madison, as President Madison, moved 
into the Executive Mansion, succeeding President Jefferson. Mrs. 
Madison was then a beautiful woman of thirty-seven, well accom- 
plished in social knowledge. The entrance into the White House 
was not at all a momentous step, as for eight years she had been 
accustomed to preside at its dinners and to receive in its parlors 
as the first lady of the 'land. " The President's Palace " it was 
often called; but it was still a shabby place, half-built, standing in 
a pasture of old oaks, in the midst of lumber piles and stone heaps ; 
in Madison's time there was no vestibule to the White House, the 
distinguishing feature now. The only great change observable in 
Mrs. Madison was that she laid aside the pretty Quaker cap which 
she had hitherto worn, though on her marriage she had discarded 
Quaker forms of speech and dress ; excepting that, like a tender 
daughter, she used the " thee " and " thou " of the Friends in all 
her letters to her Quaker mother. But she missed the soft effects 
of tulle, and almost immediately adopted the wearing of turbans, 
and was rarely to be seen with uncovered hair. The lovely por- 
trait in pencil, which reveals the beautiful shape of her head, was 
probably made when she was about thirty. It once belono-ed to 
Mr. Madison himself, but after his death she gave the miniature 
together with that of Mr. Madison to a young friend who still owns 



2 10 TUK lAMU.Y Ol- JAMES MADISON. 

tlicm both. The puitrait with the roses in the turban, a miniature 
on ivory, was made when she was at the White House. The por- 
trait by J. Wood, with tin- (triental turban and shawl, was jiainted 





JAMKS MADISON. IIOI.I.Y MAMSON. 

( From minuiturfi iti />t»L'il hv IJehrrs ; wfifn Afr. Madiiott ^i\ti/i/ly, and Mrs. MadiioH thirly i 

later. Her costume at a New Year's reception at the White Hou^e 
in 1S13 is thus described by a letter-writer of the time: 

'■ Mrs. M.idi.soii received in a rol)i; of pink s.ilin, trimmed claboratily with ermine, gold 
chains and clasps abuiit her waist and wrists, and upon her head a white satin and velvet turban, 
with a crescent in front, and crowned with nodding ostrich plumes." 

The entertainments of the period were decidedly rustic in 
many of their details. A .Member of Congress about the time that 
Madison was Secretary of State thus describes a dinner given by 
Mistress Dolly : 

" .\n excellent dinner. The round of lieef of which the Soup is made is called Btmilli. 
It had in the dish spices and something of the sweet herb and Earlie kind, and a rich gravy. It 
is very much boiled and is still very good. We had a dish with what appeared to 1h' Cabbage, 



THE FAMILY OF JAMES MADISON. 211 

much boiled, then cut in long strings and somewhat mashed; in the middle a large Ham, with the 
Cabbage around. It looked lil<e our country dishes of Bacon and Cabbage, with the Cabbage 
mashed up, after being boiled till sodden and turned dark. The Dessert good ; much as usual, 
e.xcept two dishes which appeared like apple pie, in the form of the half of a mush-melon, the 
Hat side down, top created deep, and the color a dark brown." 

The same quaint uld diarLst mentions fried eggs at one of the 
White House Dinners, and fried beef. Evidently the aesthetics of 
the dinner table and even of the boudoir were not much considered. 
The wife of the British minister at that time, a very accomplished 
woman, expresses her astonishment that American ladies have no 
flowers in their rooms, and no books — " only some foolish novels." 
Mrs. Burton Harrison says in Wide Aivake: 

"Judged by the modern standards of American luxury, the White House banquets of Mrs. 
Madison's day would no doubt bring a smile to modern lips. And the White House itself in its 
furniture and fashions, although called ' palatial ' by our guileless ancestors, was simple enough. I 
saw in an old manor-house on the Hudson recently a drawing-room fitted up long ago by its owners 
in e.\act imitation of Dolly Madison's room of state in the White House, and never since disturbed 
by their descendants. The stiff sofas and many high-backed and agreeably prim chairs were cov- 
ered with a damask of sunflower yellow ; a row of high windows were curtained with the same stuff ; 
and at the top of them hung valances of the damask, edged with a ' long and short drop ' fringe, 
made over bits of wood, caught into stiff festoons and continued, on rods, entirely around the 
upper portion of the walls. A quaint iireboard with the yellow damask fluted over it into a ' rising 
sun,' and some pier and card-tables, completed the outfit of this^fascinating old parlor, which was 
as crisp and speckless as if Mrs. Madison's own keen eye had glanced over it but yesterday." 

Her son was frequently with her now, at the White House. 
He was remarkably handsome, his manners polished from familiar- 
ity with the high society of Baltimore where he had been a great 
favorite with the Pattersons and Madame Bonaparte and their cir- 
cle. He was a fine French scholar; one who knew him says that 
his French was more pure and clear than his English. He was 
gay, charming, and his mother adored him. The black war clouds 
that hung over the country did not trouble hin^ — it was Anna's 



212 THJ: J-.IM/J.) 01' JAMJ:S M.U)ISO.\. 

lul^^baIKl who was the counselor and the son at the White House. 

Mr.s. Madison could create home wherever she was, for her 
husband. However argumentative, disputatious, unyieldin;^ his 
pt)litical associates may have found him — and foreigners traveling 
in our country wrote home, one that Madison's "looks announce 
the censor," another that he " resembles a Roman cardinal" — he 
always came to Mrs. Madison and her friends an hour before din- 
ner for s(.)cial pleasure — unbending, smiling, full of anecdote, and 
always with a whisper to his wife, as he took leave, that she " had 
rested him " and made it possible for him to go on. But for her 
son Mrs. Madison could not dissipate restlessness or summons con- 
tent. She filled the house with gay young people, drove with him 
to the races behind her four-in-hand of beautiful bays, devised all 
manner of entertainments, encouraged him toward various lines of 
study, but that young man's interest was not lo be fastened. 

It had been the intention of President Madison to send his 
wife's son to I'rincelon for the completion of his education, but 
Payne was averse. .Anxious at last to remove him from the temp- 
tations of the Capital, where the distinction of his position as " the 
President's son " surrounded him with flatterers, the familv con- 
sented that he should accompany the Embas.sy going to Euro]je 
to treat for ])eace with the British representatives at Ghent. With 
men like .Albert Gallatin and Henry Clay and John Quincv 
Adams, other objects in life than the turn of a compliment and the 
grace of a dancing step were likely to be |jresented for his con- 
templation. To his delight, he found himself considered abroad 
as " the Prince of America" and received as the heir-apparent to 
a foreign throne ; this was owing, ])r<)bab]y. as much to his extreme 
beauty and elegance and his perfect command of l-"rench, as to 




JAMKS MADISUN. 
{From the painting by Gilbert Stuart, owned by T.Jefferson Coolidgc, Boston.) 



THE FAMILY OF JAMES MADISON. 215 

his relation to the President. Henry Clay, meeting him a great 
many years later when he showed the effects of dissipation, eyed 
him all over and said, " Do you remember when you were with 
us in Russia that John Quincy Adams and the rest of us sat in 
the gallery, and apart from you, and watched you dance with the^ 
Princess, we being disbarred because we were not of the royalty?" 
It was the Czar's sister with whom Payne was dancing. The mini- 
ature, given to its present owner by Payne himself, is bv J. Wood, 
painted soon after his return to America. The season of his ab- 
sence was a sorrowful time to his mother. He neglected to write, 
and she was obliged to depend for news of him upon letters received 
by Mrs. Gallatin and other families connected with the Embassy. 

It was in 1814 that the Madison family got their allotted taste 
of war as had their predecessors, the Washington, Adams and 
Jefferson households. The conflict known in American history 
as the War of 181 2 had been going on in the South and the North 
for two years, when one day a British fleet sailed up into Virginia 
waters and the White House family heard that the enemy had 
come determined to "burn them out." Admiral Cockburn sent 
Mrs. Madison word that he would very soon make his bow at her 
drawing-room door. His officers uttered the threat that they would 
capture the beautiful Mrs. Madison and " make a show of her in 
England; " even as in 1775 Lord Dunmore had threatened to fall 
on Mount Vernon and seize Mrs. Washington. 

In fact there seems to have been felt a special spite toward 
the White House family. Admiral Cockburn is said to have taken 
much satisfaction in speaking of the President as " Jim ; " and 
General Ross who was associated with Cockburn afterward orave 
as a toast at a dinner: " Peace with America, war with Madison ! " 



210 



in I: lAMirV O I- JAMES MADISOX. 



With tliL- Hritish cannon in tlnir fars, she Hod in one direction, 
the President and his Cabinet in anotlier, and Washington filled 
up with liritish bayonets, the Capitol was fired, the White House 
too, and the fu<j;itives looked back to see the city wrajjped in 

rtanies. It was a narrow 
escape for Mistress Dolly, 
for she went only at the 
last niomcnt, waitinji; to 
secure what she conceived 
to be the i^reatest treasures 
of the Executive Mansion 
— the Declaration of Inde- 
pendence and the por- 
trait of Washington. Mr. 
George Washington Parke 
Custis had come in haste 
to the White House an.\- 
ious for the safety of the 
portrait, and they had had 
it chopped out of the frame 
with an axo by the servants, as there was no time to take it down; 
and says she in a letter to her sister Lucy : " I pressed as many 
cabinet papers into trunks as would fill one carriage." She saved 
the White House silver and some of the costiv velvet draperies. 
Mr. Madison lost his library and ])ri\ate f)ro|XMty to the amount 
of several thousand dollars. Mrs. Madison fleparted with reluc- 
tance. In her own words, she lont^ed instead " to have a cannon 
through every window." She went at last, just barely escaping 
the ransacking troops who pillaged the White House from cellar 




MRS. JA.MKS MADISON 
{From a flatjur rtvHfd />)> Hah. Jumfs Hodgfs, Bitlt. 
Ihr faiHtiHg 6y Gilirrl StMrl I 



THE FAMILY OF JAMES MADISON. 



217 



to attic and then set it on fire from burning coals brought from a 
beer saloon close b}-. 

Admiral Cockburn dined close by, after he had lighted the 
President's House ; he blew out the candles at table, saying he 
" preferred the light of the burning palace." The entire procedure 
in Washington had been planned in cold blood. The whole city 
had been carefully looked over by British spies, one of them hav- 
ing called upon Mrs. Madison the week before in the disguise of 
a poor woman in distress. It is a pleasure to add that this high- 
handed vandalism "met with no approval in London." 

Si.xteen miles from Washington next day, in a terrific rain and 
wind storm, Mrs. Madison journeyed to meet Mr. Madison at an 
appointed place. On arriving, she found the designated house 
filled with refugees from the Capitol, who angrily denounced the 
President as the cause of the war, and refused to admit his wife, 
though some of them had dined at her table tlie week before. As 
night came on a furious 
thunder-storm set in, a tor- 
nado followed, and amid 
the darkness and crashing 
trees, some of the more 
merciful finally opened the 
door to Mrs. Madison. 
Late in the night the Pres- 
ident arrived, but hardly 
had he been made comfortable before a messenger came in hot 
haste to wake and warn him that his hiding-place was discovered, 
and he was obliged to rise and fly to take refuge in a hovel in the 
woods, while at daybreak Mrs. Madison, in disguise, started on. 




{^ After its destruction by the British during the liladison A dm if 
tration ; front an old priitt. ) 



2lS 



Tirr. lAMii.y oj- jami-.s mapiso.x. 



Mofore noon tluy iicard tlial Washington had been evacuated, and 
after many perils more Mrs. Madison reached the city and went to 
the house of her " sister-ciiild," Mrs. Cutts. She found the Execu- 
tive Mansion unroofed and 
the walls cracked, defaced, 
and blackened by fire. It had 
been rendered uninhabitable 
and was not occupied again 
during Mr. .Madison's presi- 
dency. 

It was during this disas- 
trous personal experience of 
war that President Madison 
got the heavy blow of fate. 
He was not a military man, 
nor were his immediate ad- 
visers fitted to command and 
direct. No member of the 
Cal)inet possessed a "genius 
for war." It cannot be denied 
that the movements of the 

MRS. nO..LV MAnrsoN-S KAR.nK..,.S AN,. NF.CK,.ACK. " COlUt " WCrC highly " heltCr- 

(OivHtJ hji Mn. Maducn Cultt. Thr iloiui are ,arl>Mmlri ift skeltCr" iu cliaraCtCr aud TC- 
im ItHf i>IJ-/,uhu>iu,i strJ-frartt. Tkttr nfre nvrn fy .1/r, 

M.i^iuM .,1 iiu ir»iit HoHu. t"tH byhtr to Mr,. w»».i sults. " Prcsidcnt Madison," 

I'ayHt t'Hiti. \ 

says one who saw him soon 
after his return from flight, "looked miserably shattered and woe- 
begone." I-"or a long period following, his political enemies made 
capital out of the weakness of action which had been displayed. 
A most disrespectful ballad, written in the style of John (iilpin's 




THE FAMILY OF JAMES MADISON. 219 

Ride, commemorating the dismayed flight of " the Government," 
had great vogue. It was entitled " The Bladensburg Races " and 
contained sixty-eight stanzas. This doggerel was in everybody's 
mouth, sung on the streets, recited at the taverns, and created a 
general and very unfortunate merriment. This curious piece of 
verse was recently unearthed for the Magazine of AmeHcan History, 
from the pages of which the following stanzas are copied. It 
begins : 



" James Madison a soldier was, 

Of courage and renown, 
And Generalissimo was he 

Of famous Washington. 

Quoth Madison unto his spouse, 
' Though frightened we have been 

These last ten tedious weeks, yet we 
No enemy have seen. 

'To-morrow is the twenty-fourth, 

And much indeed I fear 
That then, or on the following day. 

That Cockburn will be here.' 

' To-morrow then,' quoth she, ' we'll fly, 

As fast as we can |)our, 
Northward, unto Montgomery, 

All in our coach-and-four. 

' My sister Cutts, and Cutts and I, 

And Cutts's children three. 
Will fill the coach ; so you must ride 

On horseback after we.' 

Smack went the whip, round went the wheels. 

Were never folks so glad ; 
The dust did rise beneath the coach 

As though the dust were mad." 



2 20 Till- i:\MllV 01- J. I At HS MADISON. 

ihc pell-incll rati' and scart- ttf tliL- Cabinet is described, and 
thi.'n the ballad conlimifs : 



" Ndw Uiiig live Matlisnn ihe liravf I 

Anil Armstrong long live he! 
And Rush and Cutis, Monroe and Jones I 

And Dolly, long live she I 

An<l when — their Country's cause at slake - 

Our Cieneral and Monroe 
Next lake the field, to lead the troops 

Agauist Ihc invading foe. 

Hut fly their posts ere the first gun 

lias echoed o'er Ihc wave — 
Stop, slop, roloin,-ic ! stop thv course. 

Nor pass Mount Vernon's Grave." 



THE FAMILY OF JAMES MADISON. 



221 



CHAPTER III. 



AFIER THE PRESIDENCY. 




r 



N 1S17 tliey went home to Montpel- 
icr. Like Washington and John 
Adams and Jefferson, President Mad- 
ison returned to his farm and his 
library with j()_v. He built additions 
to the house that liis now aged mother 
might not be disturbed from her 
accustomed life. Mistress Dolly hung 
her own long French windows with 
pretty silks, arranged her graceful 
chairs and fancy sofas and gav ruo's 
and pictures for sunny effects, and 
made every preparation to be as 
happy as the mother of a graceless spendthrift son could hope 
to be. She had a daughter's love and duty to render to the ven- 
erable mistress of Montpellier, a wife's care to take of the impaired 
health of her husband — she always daily dressed his hair into 
a queue with powder, not being willing that a servant should do 
it — great dinners to give, daily hospitality to show to visitino- 
travelers, and a constant correspondence to maintain with the 
Washington family. 

The two daughters of Mrs. Cutts, Mary and Dolly, were often 
at Montpellier. They had been, as little girls, very fond of Mr. 



PAYNK TODD, SON OK MRS. MADISON 
{Frotn tlte mmiature by J. Wood.') 



222 'Jill' lA.Mll V Ol J.l.MIS .\/.l/}/:iO\. 

Madisuii, and llic stalely I'rusiclcnl had putted and indiilt;L'd tlu-ni. 
The childish letters they wrote from Maine he read with ajjparent 
pleasure. .An old friend goiny; into his study one day saw a 
i)ead ring on his finger and laughingly asked what it meant. Th'j 
I'resident replied that one of his little granddaughters had placed 
it there, aiul as it did no harm and pleased them, he wore it. .Mrs. 
.Madison sometimes refers to the bead ring in her letters to the 
little girls; she says, " I see him look at it every now and then 
without saying anything." 

It was the great delight of the young Cutts people to go down 
to Montpellier. The house was full of treasures — books, pre- 
cious manuscripts, busts, medallions, miniatures and paintings, 
quaint silver and liistoric old-world furniture ; the framed Declara- 
tion of Independence hung for a long time on the walls at Mont- 
pellier. luerything had ils interesting associations, out-of-doors 
and in — even the tiger-lilies in the grass were growing from seed 
sent over by Lafayette. The house was generally filled with 
guests when Dolly and Marv and their brothers were there; 
among them often were the granddaughters of President Jefferson; 
the voungest Miss Randolph, Septimia, was especially a favorite 
with Mrs. Madison. 

There were good friendships binding together the early Presi- 
dential families. Mrs. Martha Washington was fond of Mrs. 
Madison, and the Madisons and Mr. Jefferson journeyed together to 
Mount X'ernon to comfort her after General Washington's death ; 
and Mr. Jefferson was continually expressing the wish that the 
Madison and Monroe families lived nearer Monticello. There are 
extant letters exchanged between the two statesmen in which Mr. 
Madison orders, and Mr. Jefferson purchases in Philadelphia, sun- 




(From the painting by tlie elder Iiuimn : litis portrait mas formerly aiviied by President lHonroe, bat . 
possession of Mrs. Samnel L. Goitverneur, IVaskington, D. C.) 



THE FAMILY OF JAMES MADISON. 225 

dry homely tea-kettles and other housekeeping hardware on the 
occasion of the Madison marriage. The beautiful old ladies 
among the descendants of these families, still living, speak of one 
another and the men and women of their time with a feeling un- 
like that sometimes exhibited by the society women of the later 
day. Old letters and old gifts — the small and very personal gifts 
— are preserved as treasures. Among the Madison keepsakes is 
a little china mug given to a lovely old lady when she was a young 
girl by Mrs. John Ouincy Adams, which the little Adams children 
had used in St. Petersburg when Mr. Adams was Minister to Rus- 
sia; and in the same ownership is the third of a silver squirrel- 
chain which Mr. Jefferson bought for his daughter Martha when 
she was a lonely young stranger in the convent-school in France, 
lavishing her heart's love on a frisky pet; this chain was after- 
wards divided in three sections and given to three of the four 
charming young Martha Jeiferson-namesakes — Martha Jefferson 
Hackley, Martha Jefferson Carey, Martha Jefferson Randolph, and 
Martha Jefferson Trist ; two of them nieces and two of them 
granddaughters of the original Martha Jefferson, and each and all 
in their girlhood detesting the name " Martha," especially its nick- 
name "Patsy," and each and all in after-life coming to hold the 
historic name as an heirloom. Miss Hackley's mother was a fa- 
miliar visitor at Mount Vernon, but after the changes and restora- 
tions she never went there, wishing, she said, to retain her memory 
of the place as it was in Washington's time ; her mother was the 
intimate friend of Lady Washington, Washington's mother. 

The President was devoted to the two sons of his wife's " sis- 
ter-child," Madison and Richard Cutts. It was to young Richard 
Cutis that he wrote the subjoined letter, which is treasured to-day 



2 26 J Hi'- lAMJl.y Of J.IMKS MADISON. 

by a still later Richard Cutts. Both nephews gave him the affec- 
tion of grandsons. When in 1S34 Madison Cutts was married, 
the britlal journey was made in a stage-coach to Montpellier. Mr. 
Madison was very old and feeble then, but he advanced with 
grace and dignity, leaning on the arm of old Paul, his body- 
servant, to welcome the bride, ami at dinner drank her health 
standing in the dining-room door — his own meals being served 
in his apartments. 

I'avne's fashionable friends were much at Montpellier: among 
them the Count D'Ursay, an elegant young man, at that time, 
made a three-weeks' visit, borrowing Payne's old clothes for vari- 
ous ti>hing excursions, whence he always returned " as ragged as 
bushes and mire could make him," generally having lost his way 
and fallen into a creek. Payne himself was seldom there; on his 
return from liurope, where he had left most of his fortune, he 
found it impossible to settle down to any kind of life or work. 
Though he bought an estate near Montpellier, he preferred to 
spend his time in Philadelphia or Washington, or traveling hither 
and thither. .As his mother had been compelled to rely upon other 
Americans abroad for news of him in foreign countries, so she 
seems to have kept track of him at home bv the mention of his 
name in the newspapers. She writes to him, " I am ashamed to 
tell, when asked, how long my only child has been absent from the 
home of his mother." There is frequent mention of him in the 
correspondence of the day as a young man of fashion. His cou.s- 
ins Dolly and Mary seem to have liked him, for they often wrote 
to his mother of his popularity in Washington, Mrs. Madison re- 
plying, "'the respect and love shown to my son would be the high- 
est gratification the world could bestow upon me." Meantime he 




MRS. DOI.LV MADISON, IN LATE LIFE. 
(From engraving by Prmi'lioiiniu- .ifter /•ahithig by/. Wood.) 



THE FAMir.y OIJAMKS MADJSOX. 229 

had begun to make demands upon his mother's fortune, and we 
find her frequently calling in his notes, and paying his debts. 

Her anxieties are recorded only in her letters to him ; her cor- 
respondence with her nieces and nephews is charming in its tender 
]ight-heartt>dness. She writes Dolly in Washington that she must 
tell lier "how turbans are pinned up, as well as liow to behave in 
the fashion ; "' and she writes Mary sometime during the Jolm 
Ouincy Adams administration, that she would not know how to 
conform to the formal rules of visiting then regulating society in 
Washington, " but," she says, " would disgrace myself l^y running 
about among my friends at all liours." 

She knew how, too, to write very charming letters to little 
boys; there is one to Richard Cutts, Junior, in which she alludes 
to the little Anna she afterwards adopted as a daughter, and in 
which she says : 

" I mlinirecl the presents voii sent me very nuicli, and ihank vein more for tlic kindness that 
induced yon tosend them. Wlien I wasin Richmond I l)oiif;lit von a handsome knife, hut not hav- 
ing an opportunity to send it 1 think it liest to inchise you a dolkir to Iniy you one in Washington 
for my sake — please to do so and be assured tliat I never can forget yoin' affection, l)ut that I re- 
ciprocate it with all my heart — I am laying np some tilings for you which I know will please you 
when we meet. Your cousins are all intending to write you. Dolly wrote you by the last post, and 
I helped her out with bad poetry — still it would show you our great regard. I think you'll lose 
your heart with one of your fair cousins when yon have them all before you to choose from — your 
mamma's namesake is a sweet one and very sensible." 

Anna, the sister, Mrs. Cutts, died in 1S32, four years before Mr. 
Madison. It is said that at her death Mrs. Madison lost much of 
her cheerfulness never to recover it. 

A short tiiiK- before the death of Mr. Madison in 1.S36, Mrs. 
Madison, who always found it indispensable to have young life 
about her, adopted a little niece, the daughter of a l^rother in Ken- 



2-^0 ill I- I'.iMIIV Ol- JAMF.S M.tD/SOX. 

tiickv : Iicr iianif also \va> Anna Paynu, the " cousin " referred to 
in her letter l<> her son. She \va> a merry yonng creature, full of 
jokes and pranks, and for some time probably occupied the place 
of a playful pel kitten in Mrs. Madison's life. She was with her 
through 1S37 at >h)ntpellier and went with her to Washington, 
and remained with her always. 

Through the s|joliation of his ships by the I* rench, and unlucky 
investments in North Carolina gold mines, .Anna's husband had 
lo.st the larger part of his wealth; and now when Mrs. .Madison. 
opjMcssed bv the loneliness of Montpellier, decided to return to 
Washington permanently, the Lafayette Square house came into 
her possession, and there she took U|) her residence with the little 
Anna Pavne. Marv Cutts, too, was much there, and when Mrs. 
Nhidison became a member of the Kpiscojial Church both girls were 
confirmed with her. 

Practically, Mrs. Madison could not live without the compan- 
ionship of the young. All her old friends brought their children 
and grandchildren to see her, much to .Anna Payne's delight we 
may safelv assume; it is told that wherever this little .Anna Payne 
appeared, no matter how grave the personages, or how imj^ortant 
the topic thev had been discussing, there immediately ensued a 
sound of laughter and great fun. Her pranks were often those of 
the madcap sort, and she was no " respecter of jK'rsons." Once, 
on the first of .April, she invited a gentleman, who was then Presi- 
dent of the United States, to dine with her aunt and herself. She 
h.ad the pleasure of sitting by the window and seeing his carriage 
drive to the door at the hour named. Cioing downstairs she be- 
held with joy the consternation of her adopted mother at having 
the President unexpectedlv announced at dinner-time, and still 



THE FAMILY OF JAMES MADISON. 



more did she enjoy the privilege of rushing in and informing them 
both that it was April First. 

In time this riotous love of fun sobered down into a humorous 
way of looking at the occurrences of h'fe, large and small, aoree- 
able or hard to bear, rendering her a very desirable companion for 
an old lady. In fact it is 
said that Anna Payne's 
sweet patience has never 
been surpassed by any young 
person. During the last 
thirteen years of Mrs. Madi- 
son's life there were many 
secret seasons of distress 
and deprivation. Montpel- 
lier had been sold for ready 
money's sake to meet the 
debts of her spendthrift son, 
and nearly all her income 
from other sources was 
statedly swallowed up in the 
same manner. It was often 
a task to keep up the spirit 
of cheerfulness when they were needy, and to carry outwardly to 
the eyes of the world the idea of comfort, but this Anna bravely 
helped her aunt to do. Congress finally voted her twenty thou- 
sand dollars for Mr. Madison's Manuscripts — guarding the sum 
from Mrs. Madison's son by two trustees, Rev. Smith Pyne and 
James Buchanan. 

Mrs. Madison never lost her popular position in Washington 




I in; MAIJIS'JN HOUSE, WASHINGTON, D. C. 



2 32 TIIK FAMUY 01- JAM IS AfUUSOX. 

society — a position to which no otht-r woman attained until 
the time of Mrs. lliover Cleveland. She never permitted herself 
to resiy;n a certain youthful appearance and manner harmonizing 
with her heart which was young to the last. To the close of life 
siie wore the dress she had liked many years before, and looked 
like a picture in it always — an historical |)ortrait. This costume 
worn on all state occasions — and there were manv, for the man- 
sion on Lafayette Square was lo the President's house like the 
residence of the Queen 1 )owager — was a black velvet gown, with 
leg-of-mutton sleeves, and a short waist ; the skirt in full gathers; 
it opened upon the breast and was filled in with a good deal of 
wliite tulle rising to a ruff about her face. L'pon her hair was a 
turban of white satin covered with clouds of white tulle ; and 
thrown about her shoulders with a I'renchwoman's grace was a 
favorite satin scarf of rich stripes in the Roman colors. So a|> 
pareled, she presided at one of the last great gayeties in the house 
on Lafavettc Scpiarc, when one of the Martha Jefferson namesakes 
was married to her nephew, the son of her sister .\nna, vounL' 
Richard Cutts, upon whom she leaned in all the later years in- 
stead of upon her son. This was about three years before her 
death. It was an immense reception ; all the great people of 
Washington were there, for, together with the respect affection- 
ately due Mrs. Madison, both bride and bridegroom were old 
favorites in Maryland and X'irginia societv, and all the evening 
there was a throng passing in at the front door and issuing 
at the back as at a Presidential levee. The young pair spent 
six months with Mr>. M.idison. [t was with this brother that 
Marv Cutts lived during the last years of her life. The latter was 
a very clever amateur artist, and several portraits in water colors 



THE FAMILY OF JAMES MADISON. 






4^ V-^ 7"^ ""^ ^^^-E^^^'- ^'-^ "^ 



234 '^^^'- JAM J I. y OI- JAMES MADJSON. 






KAC-srMII.E AUT<X1RAI'II LIITKR KKOM MRS. MAIllSON TO Ill-R SON. I'AYNK TorU). 



THE FAMILY OF JAMES MADISON. 235 

remain to attest her skill. Neitlier she nor her sister Dolly were 
married. 

A daughter of tlie elder nephew, Madison (Mrs. Adelc Cutts 
Williams, once Mrs. Stephen A. Douglass), who was lioi'ii in the 
Lafayette Square house, retains many childish remembrances of 
the famous receptions at Mrs. Madison's. She says in a letter: 

" The earliest recollections I have of Aunt Madison are associated with a lovely day in May 
or Tnne when arrayed in our best, my brother and I accompanied our mother across the ragged 
little square opposite the White House. We were ushered in by Ralph the young negro, who 
had succeeded Paul so well known as Mr. Madison's body-servant in old times. We were an- 
nounced as 'young Master and Miss.' My mother was 'Miss Ellen.' This was called Mrs. 
Madison's Levee-day and everybody came, much as they do now, to make a short visit, gossip a 
little, then give place to new-comers. Aunt stood near the window. 1 was a curious little girl 
only eight or nine years of age, and my wide-open eyes saw a very sweet-looking lady, tall and very 
erect. She greeted us affectionately and told us to go with Cousin Anna [.\nna I'ayne] who 
would amuse the young people. 1 clung to my mother's hand and took observations after the 
manner of children in general. 

" .Vunt .Madison wore a purple velvet dress, with plain straight skirt amply gathered to a tight 
waist — cut low and filled in with soft tulle. Her pretty white throat was encircled by a lace 
cravatte, such as the old-fashioned gentlemen used to wear, tied twice around and fastened with 
an amethyst pin (which I remember, as .Vunt afterwards gave my mother the earrings to corre- 
spond and I was sometimes allowed to wear them). Thrown lightly over the shoulders was a lit- 
tle lace shawl or cape as in her portrait. I thought her turban very wonderful, as I never saw 
any one else wear such a head-dress. It was made of some soft silky rsaterial and became her 
rarely. There were two little bunches of very black curls on either side the smooth white brow; 
her eyes wei-e blue and laughed when she smiled and greeted the friends who seemed so glad to 
see her. I wondered at her smooth soft skin as I was told that she was over seventy, which at 
that time was a great age to me. 

" A throng of people passed in and out, among them some old ladies, whom I have since 
known or heard of as the wives of men known to fame. There was Mrs. Decatur who at the time 
lived in a little cottage near Georgetown College, and never went out except to call on Aunt 
Madison. She wore a little close bonnet, and had great sad dark eyes. Mrs. l.ear [Mrs. Tobias 
Lear whose husband was Washington's secretary] was another most beautiful old lady whom we 
all called Aunt, I suppose because all the children loved her; Mr. Bancioft who lived in the Ogle 
Tayloe house next door ; Mr. and Mrs. Webster whom I saw for the first time; also Mrs. Polk 
who was always so gracefully attentive to Mrs. Madison, and Wiis then a tall, handsome voung- 



,j() nil'. ijMii) ui /.I Mhs M.t Disomy. 

looking piTM"!! .inil iiukIi IhIuvoI in Miiiciv. which was of cmiisc much Hinallcr anti nuin- united 
than at this lime when the circle is »> much hirgt-r. I canmit remember if I saw Mr. (lay uii that 
occa.sii>n, hut 1 have often hcen honored as a child at Aunt's house l>y his friendly Krc^-ling. In 
those davs our people were f,fKAl Whigs, and even now I recall the family mourning over bin de- 
feat in the I'rcsidential canvass. There were some foreign ministers who attracted my attention ; 
al.so I think, M. Hodiscn with his beautiful young wife ; and M. Calderon dc la llarca with his 
wife whom 1 shall alwavs remember .is the most charming hostess for young people. Long after, 
when I was still a schoolgirl, I, with other girls of my own age, was allowed to go to her evenings 
which she called ' Tertulias.' W'c spoke Spanish or Krcnch, and 1 think many of us may thank 
Madame Calderon that thtougli her we were stimulated to take up thi- leal study of |hr^e nvci 
languages. 

"This l.evec was over at four o'clock, when only we of the family remained with .Aunt who 
was still fresh and smiling. I have a very distinct consciousness in connection with this I.evee 
that she ili>like<l nothing so much as loud talking or laughing." 

A year or two after Mrs. Madi.son's death at the venerabk- ai^e 
of eighty-three, the faithful Anna wa.s married to Dr. Causten, and 
not long afterward died. One who knew her well in Wa.shington, 
said of her the other dav : " .\iina I'avne was not haiicUonu', her 
features beint; irregular ; but her devotion to Mrs. Madison entitles 
her to the best rewards of Heaven. She was one of the few 
purelv uiiM-ltish |)er>ons wlioni one niav nieL-t in a lifr-tinu'." 

When the household effects were to be sold .Anna went to Mr. 
Corcoran, that princely patron of art now just dead, and said that 
she had been toUl ih.it he was intending to l)ici on the Stuart por- 
trait of Mrs. Madison. Most feelinglv she added that she had 
very little money and that she did not wish him to bid against her. 
Mr. Corcoran not only gr.mtcd her ri'(|ue>t, but prevented others 
from bidding. so that the famous |)ainting fell to the child who had 
smoothed so manv rough places in the life of the famous woman. 

Mrs. Madison's property, valued at twentv thousand dollars, 
was finally divided between Anna and Payne Todd — to the latter 
the monev was welcome. 



THE FAMILY OF JAMES MADISON. 2 -J 



y-^^-L t«.^.^,,a^^-«w^, t^'-'^^^-^l^.cU.c^.^ U;K^t*^^^e„^^^ 
j^^ :j ..,w^. ,»^^ /.^^ t i u^^ "7^ ^^-/^y^ "<-««iv <,}.,.,.c.^.^ 



.fUc^,an^~i cm:. 



1'M:-S1MII.I': AUIOGKAI'II I.KIIEK KKuM rRKSniENT MADISON 10 H[S NEPHEW, 
RICHARD 11. CUTTS, JR. 



238 THE J-AMJl.y OF JA.\[ES MAD I SOX. 

This graceless man had cuiimiukcI his own fortune, his mother's 
private properly, antl Montpeliier. President Madison ii ad labored 
unwcariedly in a j^eniiinu, fatliLTJv >pirit, but in vain, to ref(jrm his 
habits of idleness and extravagance, and had paid many of his 
debts which were without number. He had sunk much of his 
means in the erection of a strange structure, on an eccentric jilan, 
upon his own estate, Toddsbirth, intending that his mother should 
there make her home. The house whicii had stood upon the 
place had been burned, and lie had built a great tower with a ball- 
room and state dining-room, grouping around this fine nucleus sev- 
eral small buildings, some old, others new ; in one of these cottages 
his mother was to live, whence she was to enter the dining-room 
through a window. When he built this house — which for lack 
of money he was unable to complete — he was interested, like 
numy people at that time, in the subject of silk-culture, and he 
intended to turn the place into a silk-farm : characteristically, be- 
fore planting his mulberry-trees or hatching his silk-worms, he had 
imported a num er of iMenchmen to manufacture the silk. Todds- 
birth is still standing, not far from Montpeliier. 

Mrs. Madison's last breath brought forth the words, " My poor 
boy I " and it is impossible for any one to tliink of her son without 
a sigh. .Step by step he grew to be the disagreeable and dissi- 
pated man which manv still living remember. A cousin, recalling 
him to-day, writes : 

" As for my cousin, Payne Todd, my childish memories of him 
do not bear repeating. His manners were perfectly Cirandisonian, 
but I was a little afraid of him. Do not ask me why." 

He became a gormand, and wholly lost his beauty and ele- 
gance. He cultivated a taste for foreign cookerv, and a friend of 



THK FAMILY OF JAMES MADISON. 339 



^y'>a/>-x( inZC- Ati^y a^<J7<_ ^ /'^r/n.-t^ ^?~r'St^fa<i.in!!. _ (Ztn<. — Tn^'^f^ 

/•Ci-i^^ ^erh^-ylA^ityi^ li^ «/--fc<i^ 9/^cyi^- ,!(Z,fo5-Ji_ i.A<:^d- :ii_ J-^JTrr^ 



FAC-SIMII.E AUTOr.RAI'II LETTER FROM MRS. MADISiJX TIJ HER NEl'llEW, 
RICHARD n. CUTTS, .11;. 



240 'HIK lAMII. } OJ- JAMES MAJ)ISOX. 

Ills IjDyhimd says that he was continually sending to the Old 
World for favorite articles of food, and that at last he was enor- 
mously stt)Ut, quite the hgure that a man must become who drinks 
liquors as constantly and eats as self-indulgently as did he. One 
who remembers him in his later years, after his inherited beauty 
was obliterated, says that he looked very much like every common 
man who becomes dissipated — bloated and jniffed and gri/.zlv and 
slouchy. 

Payne lodd accomplished nothing; in life that was worth a 
man's while. l)urin<; the first years of the Monroe Administra- 
tion he was President Monroes private secretary, but for some 
reason did not remain. lie ran for Congress, but was defeated. 
He never took his place among country gentlemen as the master 
of his estate. He never married. He dissipated his own, his 
mother's and the Madison fortune — "he literally drank up the 
place and the negroes," remarks one who knew him well, speaking 
of Montpellier. He forfeited the esteem of every friend whfim his 
mother and President Madison secured for him. 

He died after a long illness in Washington, two years after 
Mrs. Madison, at a hotel on Fifteenth street, surrounded by some 
of his mother's old slaves, but with no white person near him. 
During his conscious moments he had been full of grief and re- 
morse. In the snow and cold, on Washington's Hirthday, he was 
laid to rest in the Congressional Cemetery, followed thither by a 
carriage containing one friend, and another with his servants. 
Others of the family buried there were afterwards removed ; but 
no one had sufficient interest in Payne Todd to care where he 
rested. His only part in the world now is to serve as an example 
of a wasted life. 



V. 
THE FAMILY OF JAMES MONROE. 



THE FAMILY OF JAMES MONROE. 



CHAPTER I. 




I 



T was a century ago that the young Con- 
gressman from Virginia, James Mon- 
roe, wedded the beautiful Tory belle of old 
New York, Miss Kortright. This young 
woman had ruled in society with some 
hauteur and had established a reputation 
for exclusiveness ; Mrs. Burton Harrison 
says that " when she captivated and accepted 
the not particularly attractive Virginia Con- 
gressman, Monroe, her friends twitted her 
with the amiable reflection that she was 
expected to have done better." 
The bridegroom's own letter to a kinsman announcing the mar- 
riage and his housekeeping plans is extant and reproduced here, 
but during the hundred years most of the Monroe family records 
and intimate letters seem to have disappeared. It is true that 
there is in private and Government possession at Washino-ton a 
mass of President Monroe's correspondence, but in that there is 

243 



JAMES MONUuE, IN 1794. 
(From the ittimahtre painted in 
France ; now in tlie possession of 
Mrs. Samuel L. Goaverneitr, 
IVashinglon, D. C.) 



244 ^■'^'^ j-.iAfj/.y o J- JAMES .yox/x-OE. 

scarcely an allusion to his two beautiful children or tt) the house- 
hokl life; and when, not long ago. the autograph of Mrs. Monroe 
was desired the only one to be obtained was a reproduction from 
her signature on an ancient deed. Only an accidental mention 
found in an old letter has made it possible to name the year of 
Eliza Monroe's birth, 17S7: and no one can say exactly when or 
where the younger daughter, Maria, was born. The one thing in 
existence to-day which belongs to the childhood of President Mon- 
roe's daughters is a certain " little-chair; ' this is in lialtimore at 
the family-house of Eliza's granddaughter now long dead. It is 
rather stately for a little-chair, roomy enough for a grown woman 
to sit in, vet with a tov look : it was cushioned in while and gold 
when the little Monroe girls pt)ssessed it, and they were very fond 
of sitting in it. A courtly gray-haired old gentleman owns it 
now and takes excellent care of it. 

Eliza may have been born at Oak Hill, Mr. Monroe's Virginia 
country-seat, in lower Loudoun, not far distant from Monticello 
and Montpellier, those other famous Presidential estates. She was 
much older than her sister, sixteen years, maybe; it is supposed 
that the little Maria was born about 1803, and in France perhaps, 
as the Monroes were abroad in that year. While Eliza was a very 
little child her father, who had been North some years in Congress, 
was at home. To be sure he was busy with his country's politics, 
in company with Madison and Jefferson and other statesmen plan- 
ning a sound Constitution for the United States ; still he was much 
more in his own home than public men were at that day ; and we 
may fancy him, if we like, as often driving down the great valley 
with his wife and little girl, giving them a row on the pretty moun- 
tain river which borders the estate, the Gohongarestaw, River of 



THE FAMILY OF JAMES MONROE. 245 

fuy.^^^ .W/ A^ ^^- ^^^- — ^ 



AUTUGRAPH LETTER l;V JAMES MONROE. 



246 THE JAM 1 1. y Ol- JAMES MOXEOE. 

Swans — now called Cioose deck, uliich is very sad to relate — or 
walking and talking with them in the great grove of magnificent 
oaks. 

Eliza was a brunette child, with soft large black eyes and glossy 
black hair, and roses on her cheeks and lips. Her aristocratic con- 
servative mother reared her with much decorum ; and when, pres- 
ently, Colonel Monroe was appointed Minister to France and took 
his family to Paris, Mrs. Monroe selected Madame Campan's cele- 
brated school at St. Germain's, and the first really authenticated 
appearance of the little girl is in Madame Campan's Private Afc- 
W(7/>j where she is mentioned as walking with her father and teacher 
in the beautiful St. Germain's wood. It was in 1794 — that year 
when young Mrs. Dolly Madison and Payne Todd and Anna 
Payne went to Montpellier to live — a memorable time just after 
the French Revolution and the execution of Marie Antoinette and 
the fall of Robespierre and the establishment of a Republican 
government. Madame Campan and Mr. Monroe were both ardent 
democrats, and the embassador was discoursing to the I'Vench- 
woman concerning the advantages of free America when the little 
lover of elegance at their side spoke up : " Yes, papa, but there are 
no streets in America like these," pointing out to the fine highways. 

" Very true, my dear," said the American Minister; "our nation 
may be compared to a newly-formed household — we are in want 
of many things. Hut we possess the finest thing of all — libcrtv." 

When we consider the position and character of Madame Cam- 
pan, we may suj^pose the parents of the young American pupil — 
the mother with rovalist proclivities and the father with republican 
— to have been equally willing that she should form the mind and 
manners of their daughter. 



THE FAMILY OF JAMES MONROE. 



247 



This extraordinary woman had lived with kings and queens 
from the time she was fifteen years old — at that age she was 
Reader to the daughters of Louis xv. ; she had been the confidant 
and counselor of more than one French monarch ; she had sat at 
night by queens' bedsides in perilous times to talk over the threat- 
ening public events of the day; she had stood face to face with 
despots and aristocrats and nobles and pope's nuncios fearlessly 
advocating the rights of the citizen; she 
willingly would have gone to piison and 
the scaffold with her royal mistrtss, Mane 
Antoinette; and after the Reign of 
Terror emerging from her 
hiding-place, penniless, with 
not sufficient money to pay 
for printing cards and circu 
lars, she had written them 
with her own hand, gained 
her patrons and opened , 
her boarding-school ; in its 
simple salon she received 
generals, kings and empe- 
rors on the level of intel- 
lectual equality, and took 
young ladies of rank and 
fortune to educate on the same footing as those of obscure birth 
and humble means. Mrs. Monroe recognized her tx^ grande dame, 
Mr. Monroe as a great woman, remarkable for her learning and 
her sound ideas. 

At the time when Eliza was at St. Germain's, the dauo-hter of 




ELIZA AND MARIA MONKOF.'s LITTLE-CHAIR. 
(/« //if /tossessw,, o/Cliar!,-!. U'llmer, Es,/., P.ihimore, AM.) 



34S 'J III-: IWMIIV 01 J.IMI.S MONA'OE. 

Jnscpliinc, llortcnse dc IJcauharnais, was also a ])upil, together 
with Napoleon's young sisters and brothers — all destined to crowns 
and thrones. " I was the instructress of a nest of kings and 
queens without ever dreaming of such a thing," said Madame 
Campan in after years; to one of these, Madame Murat, she used 
to say laughingly, "The best thing you can do is to forget your 
titles when you are with me, for I can never be afraid of queens 
whom I have held under the rod." 

" To form good mistresses of families should be the grand ol> 
ject of female education," Madame Campan always averred ; and 
with this opinion Mrs. Monroe heartily agreed, for good house- 
keeping was the pride of the great Virginia ladies of those days, 
and the young American matron was altogether pleased to submit 
her little Eliza to the discipline at St. Germain's — a discipline 
very thoroughly thought out and carried out. The idea of 
"home" is commonly said to be foreign to I'Vench society, but it 
certainly was everywhere present in Madame Canipan's training 
of young girls; she daily exhorted them "to contract the precious 
love of c/icz-soi." 

Probably the school-drill was not held in as high esteem bv 
little Miss Monroe as by her mother. The girls, queens or not, 
were taught sewing, to cut out and make their clothes, to clean 
and mend lace, and in pairs three times a week to cook and carry 
food to the poor; and no doubt Mademoiselle Elise, the little 
American, and Mademoiselle Hortense, the future Queen of Hol- 
land, contrived to prick their fingers and season their soups in 
company, for they became dear friends, although the l-'rench girl 
was four years the older. 

In each dormitory a teacher slept on an elevated bed in the 




JAMES MOiNROK. IN 1 794. 

I 0/ Charles IVilmci 



THE FAMILY OF JAMES MONROE. 351 

center. There the greatest self-respect was insisted upon ; per- 
fect attention to personal neatness was enforced, with baths and 
care of the skin and complexion ; nor were pupils permitted to 
lend and borrow. Eliza wore her keys at her belt like a future 
chatelaine, and her bureau drawers were nominally in her own 
charge; still they were subject to inspection in the most unex- 
pected manner. She was instructed in the mysteries of making 
and checking a " washing-list " — collecting, sorting, " setting down," 
and tying up the clothes. Madame Campan took pride in so 
training each pupil that if she should lose her money and " only a 
'humble pallet remain to her it would be decent." She originally 
meant to teach washing and ironing, preserving and pickling, but 
of these intentions she early repented; hot irons burned holes in 
the muslins, and too much tasting of sugar and spice made the 
young cooks ill. But she did impress upon them all that on do- 
mestic management depended the fortunes of a family, and that it 
was not beneath the greatest lady to " regulate with attention the 
most triding daily expenses ; " at the same time she recommended 
her pupils to " avoid making domestic details the subject of con- 
versation in the drawing-room ; for that is a most decided mark of 
ill-breeding. It is proper for all to know how to do and direct ; 
but it is only for ill-educated women to talk about their carriages, 
servants, washing and cooking." She said the same to the Em- 
peror Alexander when he visited her for advice as to the schools 
for girls in his own country. 

The pupils at St. Germain's were required to walk two and 
two, to curtesy at coming in and going out of rooms, to never 
"race in the house." There was a little pulpit in the dining-room 
into which some girl among the older ones mounted and said 



252 HIE FAMHY Ol- JAMI-S M OX NOR. 

grace and the L•ll^tt>nKU y prayer : tlicn they ale in silence, and 
curtesicd at the d()t)r as they walked away class by class. The 
punishment for bad behavior was to dine apart, at a separate table, 
called the " Wooden Table " because it had no tablecloth ; there 
was a great ticket set in a frame before the solitary diner naming 
her offense. Twelve "bad tickets" brought this punishment. 
The offender was served the same repast as the others, but gen- 
erally passed tlie time in tears. I{ach " bad ticket " had twelve 
"points." There was also a system of "good tickets," with 
"points," and a "good point" effaced two "bad points." There 
was a record-book in which this tally was kept, and it was often 
shown the pupils. It was a dismal moment for a St. Ciermain's 
girl when she saw this book and pencil taken from her teacher's 
bag for a fresh record. .Madame Canipan relied upon this plan 
for twenty years. "Silence and the sight t)f the book alone were 
of more effect than words," she remarks. 

Madame had a charming system of rewards, i'ri/.es were given 
for sewing ; these were books, and the prize for the best-made shirt 
was as valuable as that for the best drawing. The prize given to 
superior character was a simjilc artificial rose to be worn on Sun- 
days and holidays, and the jiupils themselves made the award by 
vote. This rose-prize was bestowed, in each cla.ss, every three 
months. All the rose-pupils in the school, the next day after an 
Election, were given a breakfa>t bv Madame Campan. When any 
pupil went through the school-course and obtained a rose in every 
class, the last rose, the Rose of Roses, was presented to her in a 
porcelain vase with the date upon it in gold letters. There was 
the greatest an.xiety among the parents and relatives of the pupils 
that they should win a ro.se at least once during the course, and 




( Teacher of Eliza Maur. 



\T:\r)AMlL lAMI'AN. 

the paiiUitig by Gerard ; 

nalliiiwre. Mil.) 



e/ i luirtes It 'timer ^ Es. 



THE FAMILY OF JAMES MONROE. 355 

many a mother has wept at her daughter's defeat. One girl of 
sixteen fainted when she found she was not elected to the rose, 
and remained for hours in a lethargy. In all the exercises at the 
school-chapel it was the rose-pupils and those holding "good 
tickets," who walked first in the processions and strewed the flow- 
ers at the festivals. 

It was at St. Germain's that Eliza learned her exact pronuncia- 
tion of French, by long recitations from the tragedies of Racine 
and the comedies of Madame de Genlis; "learning by heart " was 
greatly insisted upon at St. Germain's, and there was a long daily 
drill in " numbers," which Madame Campan placed before pro- 
ficiency in music. Amusing story-books were not in favor; abrido- 
ments of natural history, and travels, composed the " light read- 
ing" allowed to Miss Monroe and her mates. Still there were 
pleasures. The famous forest afforded delicious freedom in their 
walks. Madame Campan's sympathy with youth was perfect and 
perpetual. It mattered not at all to her whether her pupils were the 
daughters of ancient nobles or " vulgar shop-keepers," but it did 
matter that they were "an amiable crowd of innocent and graceful 
beings," to use the great teacher's own words. She never forgot 
how playful were the impulses of her own young days ; and prob- 
ably our little American heard from her lips the story of one of 
her earliest experiences at the palace of Louis xv. Weary with 
her confinement among the rather uninteresting Princesses, and 
left alone for a fevv' moments, -she recreated herself by making 
"cheeses" in her rose-colored silk petticoat and court hoop, and 
just as she had achieved a particularly grand swirl her Royal mas- 
ter and one of the Princesses walked in upon her. She tried to 
rise but fell down in her puff. The King laughed and said to the 



2 56 



THK /■.i.\r//.y oj- j.iAf/:s Afoxuop.. 



I'rinccss, " Daughter, I advise you to send back to school a Reader 
wlio makes cheeses ! " 

Hhza formed an attachment for France in those happy years 
which she never outgrew. A charming little letter of hers, writ- 
ten to Madame Campan, after her return to .America, has recentlv 

come to light in posses- 
sion of the Macy family 
of Nantucket, Mass. Miss 
I'lanccs Mitchell Macy, 
>cnding it to be used in 
this volume, says of it: 
" Oueerly enough we know 
\cry little about the way 
in which this letter drifted 
back from France, and 
down to Nantucket. Mv 
mother only remembers 
that some old gentleman 
gave it to my father. . . . 
We always called it ' the 
I'rench letter.' and I re- 
member when I was a little girl with what interest I used to take 
it, as I was beginning to study F"rench. and pick out the few simple 
word> I could understand. . . . The letter is perfectly preserved 
except that the address on the outer and inclosing page has been 
injured bv some insect within the past three or four years so that 
Madame Campan's name is only faintly visible, and the residence 
Sain/ Germain En Layc is also somewhat blemi: hed." 

The little letter-writer is but fourteen, and the composition 




HORTF.NSF. DE BEM'HARNAIS. 

(FroiM mmiamrr by A iihry, in poiusshii o/Ckarlts U'ilwtr, Euj. 

Ballimorr, MJ : fainlidwhtH a tchoolmatt k/ Eliza ^r,mr,^^ 



THE FAMILY OF JAMES MONROE. 



257 



shows that like Miss Ahigail Adams she had been carefully 
trained in the accomplishment of epistolary writing. 



( Translation of the Utter front Eliza Monroe.) 







-if' 




Richmond, y»«<:' 20, iSoi. 
Permit me, dear Madam, to introduce 
to you Mr. McFerson, a young American 
from Soutli Carolina, who goes to France to 
see the country and to seek instruction. 
He particulaily desires to carry you a letter 
froin me — but as I have not the pleasure 
of knowing him personally, he has made the 
request through Miss Uutler whose father ^^~: _' ^. ^'^^^ 

was his tutor and a great friend of my " 

father's, having been a long time with him in the Senate. Therefore, Madame, I take the liberty, 
after the recommendation of this young lady, to give him this letter to you and one for Made'Ue 
Keauharnais to whom I beg you to present him as well as to your nieces the Mesdemoiselles 
Augee. They speak of him as a young man of rare merit and very agreeable. I rely upon your 
prudence to judge if it be fitting for him to present this little letter of friendship to Mile. IJeauhar- 
nais, so many years have passed since I saw her that I fear she has forgotten me. 

I embrace this occasion to renew my 
assurances of esteem and regard for tlic 
friendship which you showed me during my 
sojourn with you, and it is not my fault 
that I have not done so before ; the situa- 
tion of the two countries has prevented me. 
I cannot e.\press the sorrow I have felt at 
being able neither to write to you nor to 
hear from you. The wise counsels which 
you would have given me would have suf- 
ficed to enlighten me (m'eclairer). Too 
young to profit by your instructions, I have 
forgotten a part of what I learned and in spite of all my pains and application I see that I have 
not half the advantages which I had with you. I am reading geography, history and other 
studies of that kind witli papa. In thinking of France, it seems to me that I would once more 
like tn be with my charming protector where in the course of a few years I could completely fin- 
ish my education ; but it is useless to regret what is passed since I have to renounce the happi- 
ness of seeing y, ix again. The sole consolation left me is to receive letters from vou. I have 




25S 'i'iH'- I'AMll.y OFJAMI-.S MOXJxOH. 

not llie iiinu ti) write to my little friciuls, but I tru^t tlicy will not Iw ceremonious ; tell them to 
write to me about the fashions and about whatever is happening. Keniuinber me to Mme. la Con- 
tray, Mnic. (Icsc, M. llranpris, M. de Uruill and to my dear Mme. \x Contc and to my aunt liaye. 

Adieu 

Vour little 

Kl.lZA MONROK. 

P. S. You will give mc the greatest pleasure if you arc able to send me your portrait. I 
shall be obliged to you beyond expression if you would have the goodness to send me a doll 
fashionably dressed (««<■ fonfie hahilfe li /.( miii/f) as |)apa intends to let me go to some balls and 
other public places. You can put it in charge of Mr. Dawsnn or Mr. Skipwith. /'.j/V; W m.immtiM 
mtchargt tit «*'»" di" "'HI' ihoses i/e Uur fnrt. 

Her friendship with the lovely, arch Hortense lasted during 
life. Madame Campan says of this royal pupil that she "had a 
most interesting childhood," and looking at her portrait as a young 
<firl we can easily believe that the demoiselle of twelve would be- 
friend any shy little stranger of seven from over seas. 

The Monroes were in France at two periods during Eliza's 
<nrlhood. In 1797 Mr. Monroe was suddenly called home because 
he extended more sympathy to the new republic than was con- 
sidered politic by our Government which wished to conclude favor- 
able treaties with England just then — and England was at swords' 
points with France. But Mr. Monroe had left his college when 
he was only eighteen to take \\\) arms and fight for American 
libertv with Washington, and had received his wounds along with 
his honors, and his blood still beat high with love of the idea of a 
republic; besides he knew very well that Washington and JefTcr- 
son and Madison and other Americans were honestly and heartily 
<dad that France had set up a free form of government: and in- 
stead of informing a few I'renrh statesmen in private committee, 
he toiik the whole country in his arms in a burst of enthusiasm. 



THE FAMILY OF JAMES MONROE. 



259 




proclaimed on every hand the French and American fraternal 
bond, twined together the flags of the two countries — and thus 
angered England, alarmed the American Government, and got 
himself rebuked and chidden and bidden to come home. Mr. 
Monroe was deeply mortified and utterly confounded. In the light 
of the letter-of-criticism from the home-government we must con- 
fess him no diplomat, concede that there was a wiser way of say- 
ing the truth, and admit that the cautious and far-seeing Washino-. 
ton could not well approve him ; still, at 
this distance of time James Monroe in 
Paris is rather a gallant figure, and he will 
have the sympathies of all young and gen- 
erous beings. 

He and Mrs. Monroe sailed home to 
their native shores "hurt in their hearts." 
But they returned to Paris in 1S03. The 
chidden embassador had found on reaching 
Washington that he was beloved, as ever, 
by his old friends, and had been soon elec- 
ted Governor of Virginia ; and when the question came up of buy- 
ing Louisiana and Florida from France and Spain it was he who 
vi^as chosen Envoy Extraordinary and sent over to Europe to make 
the difficult bargains. 

At this time the Monroes were abroad several years. They 
had become very popular in Paris. Mrs. Monroe was known every- 
where as la belle Americaine. It is told that one night as they 
entered their box at the theater the house broke into a storm of 
cheers and the band struck up "Yankee Doodle" in compliment 
to the Americans, and an old Frenchwoman, encorino- the music 




SPUR AND BUCKLE. 
\'ori! by James Monroe lohen an 
ojfuer ht the Revohitio}iary lt''tir, 
at the battles of Trenton and 
Brandymine ; in the /lossession o/ 
ad Ji/ary CotU'^e.) 



Uillia 



26o 'Hf-- I-.^MIIV Ol' JAMI-.S Afo.y/w/:. 

called out, " Arnkdoo ! Arnkdcui ! " which was the nearest approach 
she could make to the pronunciation of " Yankee Uoodle." The 
Parisian social life was in every way congenial to Mrs. Monroe's 
temperament and tastes; and both her daughters, although so 
young at the time of their residence in France, became possessed 
of a strong fondness that was life-long for elegant formalities and 
conversational graces and refinements. 



THE FAMILY OF JAMES MONROE. 



261 



CHAPTER II. 




N 1807 the Monroes came 
home o n c e m o r e to 
America ; and now we catch 
the first glimpse of the Httle 
Maria. A daughter of Mrs. 
Martha Jefferson Randolph, 
Mrs. Trist, used to relate 
how amused and interested 
they were at Edgehill one 
day when Mrs. Monroe, just 
from Paris, came to call, 
bringing her youngest 
daughter arrayed — after the 
French fashion which had 
not then reached Virginia 
• — in long pantalettes. 
Maria grew up a delicate, slender, graceful, thoughtful firl. 
The portrait given here was painted at fifteen, at about the close 
of the Madison administration — perhaps after Mrs. Monroe took 
her daughters home to Oak Hill during those bad days in Wash- 
ington when the British troops came into the Potomac and threat- 
ened the capital ; Colonel Monroe was Secretary of State then. 
The painting is old and crackled and dark now. It was begun as 



CLOCK BELONGING TO I'KEilUt.M MONROE. 

(AlacU for Jllr. Monroe ivhett hi France^ by tfte celebrated Lepine ; 

it contaitis tnoz'efnettts never before used in a time-piece. It is 

stilt running. Notv in possession of Mrs. Samuel Gouverneur, 

Washiugton.D.C.) 



262 



THE 1-AMII.V Ol- JA.\fJ-S MO.XROE. 



a full-length and was to show her ranyinj; a basket of (lowers. It 
was never finished and the eanvas was finally cut and the ])ortrait 
framed as we see it ; it is rey;arded as an especial treasure to-day 
by three of Maria's granddaui^hters who never saw her in life. 
The beautiful bas-relief was made some years later and still hangs 

on the walls at Oak Hill. 

In 1817 Mr. .Monroe 
wasV elected President of 
the United States; but the 
family did not at once take 
possession of the E.xecutive 
Mansion which had re- 
mained unoccupied since 
the British foray. Fresh 
plaster and paint rendered 
it dam|). neither was it fur- 
nished fil for occupancy, 
and liu' household remained 
at Oak Hill for some time, 
the President riding home 
on horseback of a Saturday, 
thirty-three miles or so, to 
return to the Capitol on 
Monday. 
In 1S20 Maria was married in the White House to her cousin, 
Samuel L. (iouverneur. It was the second of the White House 
weddings, but she was the first daughter of a President to be 
married in the Hxecutive Mansion. It was a beautiful home- 
wedding, and the outside world was not there; only a few intimate 




MARIA MONROK AT FIFTKF.N. 

{,Fnm tamlmg m t<'iuuioH ,\f ktr d.iHgkler-iii-lav.<, .1/rs. S.imHrt 

L Gvuvmnr, Jr., IfMAmftoit, P. C.) 




Mk>. lAMKS MONKur. 




PRi.sniKNT James Monruk. 

(From the pnintin^ by Gilbert Stiuirt / voif mvncd by T. Jefferson CooUdge, Esq., Boston.) 



THE FAMILY OF JAMES MONROE. 267 

friends being bidden. A week later the White House was thrown 
open for a brilliant reception, Mrs. Monroe mingling among the 
guests, and the young bride — she was only seventeen — presidino- 
and becoming formally known to society as Mrs. Gouverneur. 
Little publicity was given to this White House marriage by 
the press. A simple announcement appeared in the National 
Intelligencer oi Washington, Saturday, March 11, 1820. 

MARRIED. 

On Thursday evening last in this city, by the Reverend Mr. Hawley, Samuel Laurence 
Gouverneur, Esq., of New York, to Miss Maria Hester Monroe, youngest daughter of James 
Monroe, President of the United States. 

There was to be a series of splendid society balls in honor of 
the pretty girl-bride, but the morning after Mrs. Decatur gave the 
first, Commodore Decatur was killed in a duel and the festivities 
came to an end, for the city went into mourning. 

The elegant elder sister had been married to a youno- Vir- 
ginian, Mr. George Hay, wlio was afterwards made Judge Hay 
by President John Ouincy Adams; it was President Adams 
who also appointed Maria's husband, Mr. Gouverneur, Post- 
master of New York City — President Monroe would never 
bestow a public appointment upon any member of his family to 
the remotest branch. Mr. Hay acted as the President's private 
secretary, as also did Mr. Gouverneur, and appears to have pos- 
sessed a remarkable aptitude for affairs, unusual penetration and 
sound judgment. 

Both Maria and Eliza resided at the White Houst during their 
father's Presidency. Mrs. Monroe being in delicate health, Mrs. 
Hay became the "active voice" in social matters. Mrs. Monroe 



26S J'm- lAMJI.y OJ- JAMES MOXROI:. 

liad not grown less exclusive. She never succeeded in taking 
kindly to jjersonal relations toward a miscellaneous public. 

To one who has read the private diaries of that time it is plain 
that during the early years of the Monroe Administration the 
social world at Washington was in a state of elemental earthquake, 
upheaval and cyclone. For this Mrs. Hay was held to be largely 
responsible. During the Jefforson and Madison Administrations 
the foreign ministers and diplomats had visited at the White 
1 l()U>e without ceremony, but neither Mrs. .Monroe nor .Mrs. Hay 
enjoyed having dignitaries of all .sorts "drop into tea" informally; 
and the matter of visiting ceremonies was one of the first upon 
which President .Monroe consulted with his Secretary of State, Mr. 
John Quincv Adams. It was resolved between them that the 
President and his wife should return no calls, pay no visits. Hut 
the points of ' who ■^l10uld call first " and the order of precedence 
in seating at state dinners, soon became "burning questions," in 
the families of the Heads of Departments, Senators and Represen- 
tatives, and on all sides the various Whitr House decrees were 
taken in high dudgeon. 

Mrs. Hav appears to have been a young woman of spirit, not 
to sav obstinacy, and sIk- ruled in Washington with a high hand. 
She presently refused to make any calls upon the ladies of the 
foreign embassies, owing to some question of precedence. On the 
occasion of a national I'Vench celebration she did "sacrifice herself 
to the good of her country " and to please her father went to the 
Hall at the house of the French Minister; but first she insisted 
that Mr. Sccretary-of-State .Adams should impress it upon the 
minds of the foreign ladies that they were not to suppose that this 
signified that she was going to visit or receive visits, and also that 




ELIZA MONROE (MRS. HAY). 
{,From the pniiitiiig in the fosiCiswH of Charles tVilmer, Esq., Baltimore, Md.\ 



THE FAMILY OF JAMES MONROE. 



?7I 



he should stipulate that her name should not appear in the news- 
paper accounts of the Ball ; and Mr. Adams was obliged to send 
for the French Minister and inform him of the " conditions made 
by the President's daughter." Nor when her sister Maria was 
married, would Mrs. Ha)' permit the foreign ministers to pay 
formal visits of congratulation, for the reason that she thought it 
improper for a younger sister to receive and return visits which 
the elder sister could not reciprocate, and this determination Mr. 
Adams had also to duly com- 
municate to the legations. The 
next day after, Mrs. Hay con- 
cluded that they might be al- 
lowed to pay the wedding visit 
to Mrs Gouverneur and that that 
visit would be returned, " but 
that it must stop there;" how- 
ever as Mr. Adams " had given 
notice to the Diplomatic Corps 
that they were not to know the 
President had a daughter mar- 
ried it was finally thought best 
by Mrs. Monroe and Mrs. Hay 
to leave things as they were. 

Mr. Adams says in his Diary 
that these questions raised by 
women were used by men for jjo- 
litical purposes, and that they 
constantly made differences between the Senators and himself and 
" between the wives of Members of Congress and mine." More 




MRS. MONROE'S TOP.^Z JEWELRV. 
at the II 'kite House ■ in possession of Cliarlet 
ll'il:,ier. Esq ) 



2-2 J HI- iAMII.y Ol- JAMKS MOXROE. 

tlian one Cabinet meeting upini this subject was held, and Mr, 
Adams at last addressed an open letter to the President that the 
matter might be publicly and authoritatively settled ; from this letter 
Mrs. Hay insisted that all allusions to herself should be erased — 
which Mr. Adams thought rather unfair as she had been the gov- 
erning voice in most of the dissensions. 

- I )oubtlcss the safe convenient formalities determined upon were 
really a protection to Mrs. Monroe in her delicate health. It is 
said that she insisted with rigor upon strict observances of all reg- 
ulations once they were agreed upon ; even that a near relative was 
refused admission to a levee becau.se he had not provided himself 
with small clothes and silk stockings; and that as she never sat at 
a reception no one sat in her presence, and that the White House 
was hardly as enjoyable as in the days of Mrs. Dolly Madison. 

The Presidential dinners were highly elegant, the immense 
rooms warmed and brightened with open hickory wood fires. The 
company was served by trained colored waiters from Oak Hill, in 
liverv. The Oak 1 (ill silver plate was used, even as President Wash- 
inc^ton had had the Mount Vernon silver at New York in his ad- 
ministration. .\ Virginia letter-writer of the time, Mrs. Tuley, has 
preserved for us a glimpse of Mrs. Monroe and her daughters at the 
last levee of the Monroe administration. She says: 

■' Mrs Monroe is a regal-looking l.icly. Her dress was superb black velvet; neck and arms bare 
and beaulifully formed ; her hair in puffs and dressed high on the head and ornamented with white 
ostrich plumes ; around her neck an elegant pearl necklace. 

•' Mrs. Judge May is very handsome also — tall and graceful, and [ hear, very accomplished. 
Her dress was crimson velvet, gold cord .ind tassels round the waist, white plumes in the hair, 
handsome jewelry, bare neck and arms. The other daughter, Mrs Gouvencur, is also very hand 
some — dress rich white satin, trimmed with a great deal of blonde lace, eniliroiderrd with silver 
thread, iKire neck and arms, pearl jewelry and white plumes in the hair." 




bas-rf.i,ii;k of makfa monrok (mrs. gouvekneur). 

(OwuiJby lUnry F.iir/ax, Esq., Oak Hill,) 



THE FAMILY OF JAMES MONROE. 275 

It is quite j^ossible that on some Levee day at the White 
House the First Lady of the Land may have recalled the remarks 
of New York society at the time of her marriage. 

There is in Baltimore, keeping company with her children's 
" little-chair," a magnificent set of yellow topaz which Mrs. Monroe 
used to wear at her state receptions. The stones are very large 
and rich and clear in color and are superbly set, being entirely 
backed with gold ; the comb looks quite like a crown ; there is a 
necklace, ear-rings and pins besides. There is an aqua-marina set 
there also that belonged to her. A 

Mrs. Hay's daughter Hortensia lived at the White House 
/and saw many a pretty pageant in the drawing-rooms — we frev 
quently read of the child in the diaries of statesmen as being- 
present at state gatherings of a show character ; and she went to 
live at Oak Hill after the Presidency, and with her elegant mother 
helped receive General Lafayette when he paid that famous Vir- 
ginia visit to the three old Presidents — Monroe, Madison and 
Jefferson. 

Mrs. Hay had named her daughter Hortensia, for her old school- 
mate in France, and the Queen claimed godmother's rights over the 
little girl she never was to see. She writes thus to Mrs Hay : 

My Dear Eliza : 

It is one of my nephews who will take this letter to you, and a story-book that I send you — I 
need not recommend him to you whose position is so interesting and who hopes to find tranquillity 
in your free and new country. I know that one is so well off with you that I believe that one will 
go with pleasure there, and if fate will ever conduct me thither I shall have the satisfaction of find- 
ing there another companion whom I can never forget, and to become acquainted with a country as 
interesting as America. But I am settled in Bavaria and I am so well off here, and am no longer 
young enough to form such great projects. 

I am sure that you have shared our grief at the death of that good Madame Campan. I regret 
her very sincerely. She had come to pass three months near me at a country place I possess in 



2 76 



Tin-: iwMiiY or J. t. VIS moxkoe. 



Swilzcrlniul. Her spirit, lier licirl, wa< ever llic same and perhaps she wmild have come to settle 
herself near nie, when ileatli tnnk her away aiul deprived me of a very tender friend. 

Yon onght to have received through her our portraits for your daughter — our goddaughter. 

Although I have never received your let- 
ter on this subject, yet I take the right 
that you have given me over her and 
send you a little chain of the country 
where I live and which I pray you to 
make her wear as u souvenir of me. 

Remember me tn ycjur res|>vctcd 
parents and Iwlieve, my dear Kliza, that 
nothing can alter the tender and old feel- 
ings that I have for you. 

IloKTCNSKL 

Ai<;siiitRi;, loth J.iii. 18:3. 

I forget your name as a wife, but I 
beg you alv\av. in sjicak of mc to your 
husband. 

The portraits rcachcti 
the litlk' IIort(.'nsia safL-ly, 
and Ining in her strand home 
after her marriage — tlie 
famous Druid Hill Park 
mansion ; they were superb 
paintings of Ilortense when a young girl, of Ilortense when 
Queen of Holland, of Prince Euge'nc de Heauharnais, and of 
Madame Campan. Later came the medal, cast in memory of 
the great teacher by her |)upils at the Kcouen school, bearing 
her portrait when an aged woman ; this was sent to Mrs. Hay 
by a niece of Madame Campan. 

Strangely enough, a little girl of seven, in Washington, Miss 
(^live (iale, possesses the very ne.xt letter written to Mrs. Hay by 
Queen Hortcnse; sending it for use here the child says of it : 




(JUKFN HORTHNSE. 
{,Fro>H Ikt A""""*- h <Ur.,rJ: in Ikt A'"""'"" "/ Ck.irl,s HV- 
fwrr, Esif. ; unt to krr MttiHtt'tke^ llorttiUM /A*/, hy th4 QttttM.) 



THE FAMILY OF JAMKS MOAFOF. 



277 



" I send you a translation of a letter of Queen Hortense which Eliza Monroe gave to my great- 
grandfather. The original is written in a fine handwriting and on a paper with a narrow lace 
edge." 

[Tratislation of a Idlev from Queen Ihnihise to Eliza Moiiioe.) 
My iw.w. Eliza : 

I received your letter of the si.xth of Janinu y. I trust you ilo not doubt tlie pleasure it has given 
nie. The details of your family life can but interest me greatly. Great distances can never efface 
the affections of childhood ; it is, on the contrary, ever sweeter to retrace them in spite of all ob- 
stacles, and to receive the assurance of this is great pleasure. Friendship at least is not perishable ; 
knowing this it is easy to bear the loss of all else. I am at present enjoying perfect happiness, for 
I have always found it in love, and I am sorrounded by all that is dear to me — my children, my 
brother and iny sister-in law, the Grand Huchess of Baden. We are all together in a small country 
place iiu Lake Constance, where we are enjoying a quiet and peaceful life. My children are good. 
I have always striven to bring them up 



simply, notwithstanding all the grandeur 
by which they were surrounded, so that 
I am now reaping my reward. Thcv 
have no longings and only wish to be ol 
worth through their own merits. Who 
would defeat so noble an ambition ! 
And how sweet it is for a mother to 
have only to encourage .such sentiments. 

I sincerely hope, my dear Eliza, that 
you will ever be a happy mother, and as 
you already have a little daughter let me 
wish you the happiness of a son. It 
will give my brother great pleasure to be 
godfather. He begs me to assure you 
of this as well as the high regard which 
he has for your honored father. 

Doubtless one of my nephews has 
given you a letter, a novel and a lilllc 
chain for my goddaughter. It gives 
me great pleasure to send these little 
tokens of friendship and I hope mother 
and daughter will never doubt my most 
tender affection. Vou can send me a 
letter either through your embassador in Paris, who will deliver to the embassador of , what- 
ever is for the Duchess of .St. Lew, or through Mr. Cctlzmann, banker, in Frankfort. I will at- 
tend to whatever you desire when 7 return to .Xugsburg. 




KUGENE DE nEAUII.VRNAIS. 
(From the />itiii/mg presented by Queen Hortime to her geddaugh- 
ter, Horlensiit Hay ; the original is o^uned ly Charles Wilmer, Esq.) 



278 



THE FAMJI y O J- JAMES MONROE. 



Karcwull, inv dear Kliia. Kind rcmi-mbranccs lo your family. I well understand the sorrow at 
the death of your cousin. We would have liccn more than glad to have had him with us. Hut the 
military profession does not pmlonK life. We must thurefore have no regrets and be resigneii. I 
embrace you very ttnderly. 

lIuRTFNSK. 

Arfnkniikrc, A-//. 17. i.Sij. 

When you write, plea-se tell me if a foreigner wi>hing to enlist in your army could do so, and if 
so what the conditions would be. 



The Qiiccn'.s lilllc namesake c;re\v U|), a handsome willful girl, 
and became the second wife of a very wealthy lialtimore gentle- 
, _„_ - man ; it is said that she mar- 



/ j,t:jjj \\ rifd quite atfainst her parents 
'"'"' ' wishes, and that she was not 





Tltli M.iDAMK fAMI'AN M! I'Al-. 
(Stnuk by hrr fufiU in commrmiyralion ,•/ lier iervice 
thtir .iffextion; unt lo Mrs. l/„y(Eliz-i Mtinrof.) 



J always happy in her stately 
home; one passing by in iIk^ 
silence of a winter's dav sees 
' little that associates with Kliza 
Monroe and her children or 
Queen llortense and the old I-'rench teacher. But in summer the 
park is enchanting with its thousand acres of drives and paths and 
trees and flowers and lakes and bosky seclusions. 

Among the souvenirs of l^liza, kept in Baltimore, is a letter 
from Pope Gregory xvi., with a bracelet which he blessed and sent 
t^, lier — the (res honorable dame — through the Roman Secretary 
of State. lie had been warmly pleased with this .American 
daughter of the Church during her residence in Rome; for she 
went abroad to live after the death of her husband and her father 
and mother in 1S30-31. The bracelet is of French silver-gilt, with 
a cameo setting f)f the head of Christ. A copy of her rejily in 
her writing, is preserved along with the Pope's missive. 



THE FAMILY O J' JAMES MONROE. 



279 



Mrs. Hay died in Paris — in her beloved France — and was 
buried in Pere-la-Chaise. 

Mrs. Monroe died in 1S30 at Oak Hill, after a life of happi- 
ness with a man of whom Jefferson said, " his soul might be turned 
inside out without discovering a blemish to the world." 

Mrs. Gouverneur was living then in New York and the ex- 
President removed to that city to be with her and Mrs. Hay. His 
long unselfish public life had impoverished him, and he died in 
1831, a poor man. He had spent large sums abroad, as U. S. 
Minister, in keeping up the dignity of the American Government, 
and in various crises his own private means had been put at 
the service of his country. He was of far too proud a spirit to 
accept private relief. He had befriended the Lafayettes, helping 
in Madame Lafayette's re- 
lease from the French 
prison, helping Lafayette 
from the Olmutz prison, 
and paying a great sum 
to keep their son, George 
Lafayette, from being con- 
scripted into the French 
army, sending him over to 
America; now General 
Lafayette wished in turn 
to come to his comrade's 
aid, but the old Presi- 
dent would not take money from any friend's hand. He only 
asked that his just claims on the Government should be recognized 
and paid. 




THE DRUID HILL PARK MANSION. 
( /"/w home of Hffrtensia Hay {Afrs. Lloyd Rogers.') 



28o 'i'J'f'^ J-A.\rH \ 01- JAMKS MOXKOK. 

He died a poor man. Hiil his name and fame arc safe ; the 
"Monroe doctrine" — which means "America for Americans," 
tlie ultimate ownersiiip of Nf)rth America liy the I'nited States — 
is an intei;ral part of our national life, past and future, and for 
centuries school-boys in the history-class will come to James Mon- 
roe's name and \vi>rk. 

There were many happy years in .Mrs. Gouverneur's married 

life. Her oldest grandson remembers her — he is the eldest son 

of her daut^hter lilizaljeth, and \vas the only grandchild when Ids 

'grandmother died about 1S50. She had 

• . V, ^,. three children ; Samuel, James Monroe, and 

f'lli J^^i^SflillrrP^ ^^^' <^'''^".^'^'^'-''' •'-liZ'iljL'tli (Mi"-^- lleiskell), 
cw-.lf^Jjif^r "'.•/;-•'. • none of whom are now livintr. 

.*-i!b^ I' ' . . - . , 

'•■.i„;2!'*^ .rL;;.--'- '^ This son of Klizabeth's — .Mr. lames 

iiRMKLKT. Willi (AMio iiKAo Monroc lUiskil], wlio is the oldest lineal 

OK CHRIST. descendant of President Monroe — was a 

(/v„,«w,..../.. /A..(^/«.. .'/-■ ^^..^^ .f ^yjt,^ ,,i^ grandmother, and it is 

i-y ciu>rUi H-iimfT, F.iq.) said that slie s])()iled him beyond all con- 

ception; they kept hou.se together in Washington — the Gouv- 
erneurs and the Meiskells — at "the Penman," a very fine 
house in those days, built by the Count of tliat name. The 
little fellow was, moreover, the godson of Mistress Dolly Madison, 
and got a goodly amount of petting at her hands also ; among his 
treasures to-dav is a tiny yellowed note running thus : 

NVill Ma.ster Monroe we.ir this little hat to plta>e hi,- Mamma Mailisun — and tell her hnw 
the dear invalids are to-day? 
A'nv Ytiir's Day, 
1847. 

Mrs. Madison's grandniece — the beautiful little Adeic Cutts 



THE FAMILY OF JAMES MONROE. 



281 




2S2 



JJII I IMII V Ol- /AMES MONROE. 



^4 



^ *-•-*- -^^t*-*^ ^^^.f~K.^~^^ J^ m ■■ ■■! -J^ . - ■ ■ |. „ ^^^^^■^^^^ 



>—«><-, ^.f 






^^ fc.*-^ ^ ■ ' > '^ ^^-t- 



••<i^ ,^K'<^^"*JV5i 






/>:i:7ai' 






■s^""*^^ 















^fjr:,.^' 



'y 



''":, 



r— 



.^ 






\^,,. 



/,: 



KAC-SIMIlh IKITKK. 
U'ritttK lol'of* Grtgcry X\'l. */ ,1/rl. //.i/(£V;cl .IA>«r.v) ; in fviitiiu'Ho/Ckarltl H'ilmrr, Etf.) 



THE FAMILY OF JAMES MONROE. 



283 



— was one of his playmates. There were memorable drives — 
Mrs. Gouverneur and the lad all alone in the carriage — to the 
famous toy-store kept \^ Mrs. Clitz on Pennsylvania Avenue, 
between Ninth and Tentli streets, and known to all the good 
children of that period ; in this jDalace of delights the little boy 
walked about and chose, and the grandmother paid. 

Mrs. Gouverneur owned her servants, and tlicre was plent}' of 




OAK HILL, THE HOME OF PRESIDENT MONROE. 
■«</, in 18S8, shmmug the old house and the new. The Oak Hill estate is no7u mmicd ly Henry 
Fairfax. E,q.) 

money, and during the winters she entertained magnificently. 
Summers they always spent at Oak Hill, and the journey thither 
by carriage and baggage wagon was a grand picnic to Master 
Monroe and the little negroes of the double household. Huge 
lunch-baskets, generously planned], were an important part of the 
baggage ; and at mid-day the tram of carriages and wagons and 



2Sl 



THE J-AMIl.y OI- JAMi:s MOXNOE. 



"'^ 




horsfliack riders (for there 
wire :il\\;i\s half a dozen 
or nu)re quests) made a stop 
midway between Washiiit;- 
tiin and Oak Hill, down 
in I'airfax County at a cer- 
tain lariTc sprincj in a beau- 
tiful grove, and enjoyed a 
leisurely gypsy meal. They 
usuallv reached Oak Mill 
by dark. There were guests 
coming and going all sum- 
II 1 11 1 M MMi s M,,>K..r. mer, and the whole house- 

(,From Ihf fttinlme hy WmiUrlym: in foistuioK ,</ Mrs. Samutl t.. ,, ,. , . r 1 

OMttrnnir, HathingloH, D. C. ; th, ^^rd Mong, -.vith th, .,.»r/ hold llVCCi OUt-Ot-ClOOrS, OU 
Hrtit uvm in Francr.) .11 .1 

the lawns, among the moun- 
tains and in the groves. Both Mrs. Gouverneur and her daugh- 
ter. Mrs. I leiskell. were 
good hor.Newonun. and 
it was their delight to 
gallop ot"f together on 
" Jenny l.ind " and 
" 1-ightfoot," their two 
handsome s a d d 1 e - 
horses, always kept 
in shining trim by 
" Moses," the old col- 
ored groom. 

Mrs. CiOUVerneur j-ac-simh.k kk.m.mkni hf phem hv maria MONROE. 

was kind and open- (»Kr,//«« /*,*,.„,« ,/.v„. y>/,r-.«.iy,v.) 



^^--— <<ii^>i»w^ A^^ .^^ V«*^ 








{Son of Marin Monroe {Mm. Gouverfinir), 
President Jefferson ; /;/ the pos. 



f;OUVI-:RNKUK. 



a boy at Oak Hill. From the painting by Linnen 
I of Mrs. Saniud L. Goiiverrteur, IVashington, D. C.) 



THE FAMILY OF JAMES MOXROE. 



28: 



handed, and the poorer families in all the region around Oak Hill 
blessed her coming, and there arc old people living about 
the place to-day who still cherish her memory. 

Even more than her 
sister Eliza, Mrs. Gouver- 
neur was fond of books ; 
and like many ladies and 
gentlemen of her time she 
considered it an accom- 
plishment to be able to 
express herself in verse. 
There is preserved in 
her son Samuel's family, 
among those granddaugh- 
ters whom she never saw, 
the manuscript of the lines 
she wrote as a wedding- 
gift when her friend Mis- 
Tyler was married ; three 
stanzas of the poem are 
given in fac-simile on the 
preceding page. 

She died at the old 
country home, and her mantel and mirror at oak hill, i'resknted to 

,, ,11- . PRESIDENT MONROE BY LAFAYETTE. 

grave is there, nestled m at 

the foot of the hill and grown over with myrtle, green and 
beautiful. As her sister loved la belle France, so did the more 
American Maria cling to her birthplace, and one can but think 
that she sleeps restfully there; and surely it is one of the 




2SS 



Till: lAMH.y Ol- lAMKS .MONK OK. 



n)inaiuic kindnesses of I'"atc that her portrait, alone or all the 

Monroes, still hanu,s upon the ancestral walls. 

Uak Hill has gone out of 
the possession of the Mon- 
roe family. Most of its old 
portraits and engravings and 
carved furniture and relics, as 
well as the Monroe correspond- 
ence, public and private, is in 
Wasliington, in the family of 
Maria's eldest son. His 
widow, Mrs. Gouverneur, re 
gards these possessions as a 
trust for the President's de- 
scendants, conserving them 
with an intelligent purpose 
that rarely is manifested in 
our country, as yet, toward 
family memorials. 

The estate of Oak Hill 
itself is now a great prosper- 
ing stock farm of three thou- 
sand acres, with a creartiery 

cHiNtbt i;oN.. i.N iiK.jNzt Willi (.AKvi-i. ^lA.M,. ^j^j hcrds of COWS aud hand- 

*'"„'T^'""f;''";?"'^'^ '^7r/""';'/''''*'''C' some Percheron horses. Its 

D. C. BriyHgkl from Ckiiui by a son «/ .MirM MoHrot ; tittdty 

cki«,ri.\r...Hi«,:ioH,ob,Mr,h.u...nd,r..r,M.a.dio pogscssor, Mr. Hcury P'airfa.\, 

maintains it in perfect order 
and keeps alive, with a pride to be honored, its historic associa- 
tions; and the place is as enchanting now with its oaks and its 




THE FAMILY OF JAMES MONROE. 



2S9 



•^ mountains and its wide sweep of vision straight away thirty 
miles down the beautiful valley as it was on that day when 
Maria's son, his father's namesake, Samuel, wrote his pathetic 
adieu to the place : 




Vc Ciu)C 4X \Si5t, ^ JU»AUM,-fe».^^^ 






teiV^' 










^{^tt^^^.'>.\^.c^^/jf^-o-^\X3^2lUAy^ t l^KAJf, 



^^X*>^^^ cL^UVo mIsxJ.^. ttcu,tvvi,„ 






^:5tf.(w /to^<^ '^^-^ ^i^ vfc:^ l'>M.w>)it(vval-Kvt/' 



FAC-SIMILE POEM UY SAMUEL I.. GOUVEKNJiLIK, JK. 
(Ill fossessiot, 0/ Mrs. Samuel L. Gomvrutur, lyashiugloil, D. C.) 



VI. 

THE FAMILY OF JOHN QUINCY ADAMS. 



THE FAMILY OF JOHN QUINCY ADAMS. 



CHAPTER I. 



GLIMPSES. 



^^^ T^'HE family life at the White House during 

^^^^^ J. the John Ouincy Adams administration was 

^^^^^m ideally rounded and complete. There were woo- 

^H^B^ ings and weddings, baby life and christenings and 

^^^^^L nursery frolics, long, old-fashioned visits from rela- 

^^^^^^ tives, quiet fireside hours when the President read 

^^ aloud, and Mrs. Adams wrote poems, and sano- to 

her harp, and translated Plato with her sons ; Mrs. 

Adams was, perhaps, the most scholarly of the 

women who have presided at the White House — 

we may well suppose that the polished Mr. John 

Quincy Adams who complained of the Boston 

belles that too many of them were " like a beautiful apple that is 

insipid to the taste" had taken some care to fall in love with a 

young person of mind and culture. 

This Presidential family had always been in official life ; and 
we can understand that the pleasures of home and any liberty 
whatever to pursue their personal tastes and inclinations would be 

293 



A WHITE HOUSE 
KABY. 
{A/ary Laitisa Adams ; 
from sUhojutte by 
Hubbard. Owned by 
Iter daiiglUer, Mrs. 
Cluirles A. DoolittU, 
Utica, N. J'.) 



294 '^'^^^' ^'''^^^^■^^' OF JOUX Ql/.VC}- ADAMS. 

looked upon by thcni all as privilege and luxury. We remember 
that Mr. Adams had gone abroad wiien only fourteen years old as 
private secretary with our Minister to Russia, and that .Mr>. Adams 
at the time of her marriage belonged to one of the families of the 
American luiibassy in London, and that there had followed min- 
isterial residences in Berlin and St. Petersburg and London. 
I'hey had returned to America welcoming the prospect of repub- 
lican forms of society and a more individual life, both for them- 
selves antl their children. 

The eldest son, George Washington, had been born in IJerlin 
(the only little foreigner among the sons of the Presidents); and 
both he and his younger brother John had been more or less in 
foreign schools. The youngest son, Charles Francis, had been 
taken abroad when he was but a little fellow of two years, and 
had spent his early childhood in St. Petersburg; later the three 
children had been together at school in London. As boys the 
young Adamses could have known little of the free, simple life of 
other American lads except when at tlieir grandfather's farm in 
Quincy ; and even there they must have been obliged to "live, 
move and have their being" among stately and distinguished folk, 
visitors to the e.x-President ; and as young men they had entered 
early upon public or professional work. 

On the final return to America, Mr. .\dams had taken up 
his residence at Washington as President Monroe's Secretary of 
State, to go into the White Hou.se as Chief Magistrate at the 
close of the second Monroe administration. 

But as mistress of the K.xecutive Mansion, Mrs. .\dams found 
it possible to establish a much more quiet and satisfactory home 
life than when Mr. .\danis was .Secretary of .State. Her social 




JOHN QUINCY AHAMS. 
(Ai t'Menty-nine ; /roi$t the painting by Copley.) 



THE FAMILY OF JOHN QUINCY ADAMS. 297 

duties were more clearly defined, less taxing. As the President's 
wife, she was not obliged to pay visits, and both she and Mr. 
Adams sturdily resisted all innovations upon established etiquette. 
Immediately upon the election of Mr. Adams the foreign embassa- 
dors who had been dissatisfied with the social rulings of Mrs. 
Monroe and Airs. Hay, endeavored to have days set apart for 




SOMK WIIITK HOUSE FANS. 
(jrhc i)tiddlf/nn is o/hoyjt, with quizzing glass itithc center. Owned l>y II'. C. Johnson, A'j/., Ne7vbitryport, Mtiss.) 

their receptions and state dinners at the White House, in order 
that they might not encounter a motley throng of Americans, but 
to this offensively aristocratic demand Mr. and Mrs. Adams would 
not accede. 

Although in the opinion of the time Mrs. Adams's receptions 
were marvels of elegance, hours were kept at the weekly " drawing- 
rooms " which would liave suited the farm at Quincy. Guests 
might arrive at eight, but at ten the lights were out in the White 
House parlors. The President wished to awaken betimes; in 
winter at five, that he might go abroad for a two-hours walk under 
the light of the moon and the stars, nearlv always returning to see 
the sun rise from a favorite eastern window. He then made his 



29S Till: lAMILY Ol- JOllX Ql INCY APAAfS. 

own fire, and sat down to road tliicc chapters of tlic Bible with the 

. - . i 

acct)nipaniment of various coninientanes. On summer morningsj 

/ he usually repaired to the Potomac, his son John frequently with 
him. Ihi- President was a strong swimmer, and often rcmaineij 
in the water for two hours or more, much to the anxiety of his\ 
family and friends. John could outrun him, but he could outswim 
John. In his diary we find him characteristically taking himself 
to task for swimming simply to show of what feats he i&^ 
vcapable. 

' At the White House period of the family life, George, the 
baby born in Berlin, had grown to be a public man himself and 
was living in Boston and Quincy and making visits in W'ashing- 
ton, possibly for glimpses of a lovely cousin resident in the White 
I louse family. Miss Mary Hellen, his mother's niece ; probably 
these visits were not wholly seasons of happines>, inasmurh as 
his brother John, who was the President's private secretary, openlv 
professed admiration for this same lad\. 

We may suppose that (ieorge came on from Boston to be 
present at the grand ball which his mother gave to General jack- 
son, in the !•' street home, the year before the family went into the 
Wliiti' Mouse, and also that both he and John assiduously assisted 
.Miss Hellen who. with their Cousin .Abigail (a daughter of Mr. 
Thomas Boylston ,\dams), is recorded to have been a week in 
manufacturing the decorations for the ball-room. The I' street 
residence was a double house, and the ball-room was in the second 
house. The floor was chalked with representations of the .Amer- 
ican eagle and flags, and bore this legend: 

"Welcome Tf) nii IIiko oi- Nkw Oki.e ans ! '* 




Onimrl-Jrrii./rt 



MRS. JOHN i.>I'INrV ADAMS. 
I tlu faiHtiHt */ Litlit. Owntdhy tkt hit Mri. Ck,trUt Fritmn Adami ) 




rUESlDENT JUllN nUlNCV ALiAMS. 
(From tlu painting by Leslie, cwned liy the late Mrs. Charles Francis A Jams.) 



THE FAMILY OF JOHN QUINCY ADAMS. 303 

The pillars were trimmed with laurel and winter-green and all 
the rooms were wreathed with greenery and roses, " and lighted 
with small glass variegated lamps and a luster in the center which 
produced a beautiful effect," as says Miss Abby, and she adds that 
there were "eight pieces of music," and that "General Jackson 
looked remarkably well." Mrs. Adams was seated in the iiall be- 
tween the two houses, General Jackson stood by her side, " a semi- 
circle of distinguished guests arranged around the two into which 
each one had to enter and make their bow," as writes another 
guest, "and the company proceeded in perfect order, two and two." 
There was no shaking of hands in those days. It is claimed that 
this practice did not come in until after President Buchanan's 
time. 

Both George Adams and John were handsome young men. 
George possessed easy and polished manners, having been accus- 
tomed to travel and society from his babyhood up. He had been 
brought home in long clothes to Quincy, a baptized little Episco- 
palian, as there was no Presbyterian congregation in Berlin. His 
father regretted this, and we may be sure that his Great-grand- 
father Smith would have been much exercised in his mind had he 
lived to learn of it. The young family had expected to settle 
down and make a home in Boston, but presently, Mr. .Adams be- 
ing elected Senator, Master George was going to and fro a great 
deal between Washington and Quincy. On the appointment of 
Mr. Adams as Minister to Russia the little fellow had been left 
for a time with his Grandmother Adams on the farm, and this 
perhaps had been the happiest season of his life. 

Both George and John had been sent over to London to live 
upon the appointment of their father as Minister to the Court of 



304 'HI- l-i-^lliy Ol- JOIIX (J I /NO .ID.IMS. 

St. James, and thcrt' they had had a incetini; with llicir little baby 
Ijrother Charles grown into a pretty, gentle, acconijjlished lad of 
seven. 

Numerous glimpses of Mrs. .\dams and the boys abroad are 
afforded in the scrupulously minute and exact diarv kept by Mr. 
Adams. Ihey seem to have driven about l,t)ndon to their hearts' 
content and to have made it a matter of education to see the fine 
sights, the great institutions, the noted pictures, the famous per- 
sons. They became acquainted too, as few children ever do, with 
the hoUowness of grand society, for they saw the show from the 
inside ; often the Adams household was convulsed to its center 
\vith mightv questions concerning invitations and clothes and man- 
' ners, and the boys more than once heard it said that " the Knglish 
/ Court did not understand their own rules of etiquette," and doubt- 
less it was very amusing when the foreign ministers came in haste 
\ to consult with their father whether or not it would be proper to 
1 wear this or that suit on this or that occasion ; it appears that 
sometimes the.se solemn dignitaries guessed right, but oftener 
wrong. Frequently, owing to court mismanagement, the state in- 
vitations would fail to arrive at all ; and then again the American 
Minister would not be included when iiis wife was invited, and 
vice versa. The servants of great people would forget to announce 
that the .Adams' carriage was waiting, and the luckless pair might 
have to linger wearily about until after midnight, and perhaps 
sally forth then to find overcoats, hats and wraps stolen from the 
coach. E!ven about the presentation at court there was a very 
dismal delay ; the letters and notices did not come to hand when 
they should, and at the very last, after all the "coaching " and \ 
practicing and dressing. Lady Castlereagh who was to present/ 



THE FAMILY OF JOHN QUTNCY ADAMS. 305 

Mrs. Adams was too late at the palace and another noblewoman 
had to take the American lady in charge ; and then, when all was 
done and said, the Queen and the Princesses proved to be plain 
and awkward and stiff and stupid — not nearly so charming and 
interesting as Grandmother Adams and Aunt Abigail Smith 
the boys heard all these fine farces talked about at luncheon next 
day and had a standing joke with His Eminence, their father, 
because the Royal Highnesses invariably asked him the same 
questions : how the climate affected his health, and how he had 
enjoyed his residence in Russia. 

Probably the American lads had wedding cake when the Prin- 
cess Mary was married ; at least Mr. and Mrs. Adams attended 
upon the royal nuptials, and a big slice wrapped in a paper was 
handed to each person to take home as the company passed down 
the grand staircase. When the Queen had her birthday drawing- 
room Mr. Adams was invited, and Mrs. Adams was not; but she 
and John drove with him to the palace to sit in the carriage out- 
side and see the parade. Mr. Adams arrived too late, and so did 
some of the great Peers in their robes, and they all drove up and 
down Parliament street ; at last John saw the state coach drawn 
by eight cream-colored horses with golden harnesses and sky-blue 
silk ribbon bows, and he heard the unpopular Prince Regent 
hissed, and saw him pelted with mud balls and his carriage win- 
dows finally broken by bullets and stones from the rabble. 

It is easy to believe that this restless fretting life where court 
cards and clothes might at any moment become matters of infinite 
importance had been pleasing to neither Mr. nor Mrs. Adams, and 
that they were relieved when the time came to return into a re- 
public with their sons. 



;o6 



y///. jAMJ/y oj- jonx qc/ncv .uki.ms. 



cii\rii;k II. 



TIM. lllKli; SONS. 




I'KN Sl'ITOKI. 



IX diH- linir (icorgc entered Harvard Col- / 
lege, and aftirward studied law in lios- 
ton with I)aniel Webster. He was a yoiiiisf 
man of mark in college and a newspaper 
writer of the time records concerning a dinner 
given by ex-Presidenl John .Adams to some 



(Sift/ ring fittl h J<*n Qhih.]/ 
Atiiimi to Mttady hit ffH ; thr 
$mtilUr ring hfid tht /r«. 
Tkii rmg u Hm< m,u.i hy »■ 

c ji,kns0». A>,, xmbHr,. distintfuished En<j;lishmen that" an able Amer- 
ican remarked that as an American he was 
verv i)n)ud of the tine conversational powers displaved liv voung 
Adams." 

(ieorge .\dams was without doubt exeeptionallv gifted. Like 
his father, he was a student of Shakespeare and, like his father 
\again, wrote many poems. Mr. .Adams was disappointed when this 
son devoted himself to the study of law, and entered politics. He 
\\vould have preferred to sec all of his sons becoming classical 
scholars and literary men. He savs in his diary that his own ambi- 
tion would have been " bv some great work of literature" to have 
done honor to his own age and handed his name down. ".Ah," he 
sighs, laying down Plato, "a delicious occupation ! " and adds that 
it gives him '.'an ardent longing for leisure." He regrets that his 
sons have not inherited his literary taste. " deorge," he says, " is 
not entirely without it. The others have it not, and I have found 
every effort to stimulate them to it, hitherto, fruitless." 



THE FAMILY OF JOTIX QUINCY ADAMS. -ip-j 

One Christmas day in particular Mr. Adams gatlicrcd his 
family about him and read aloud Pope's Messiah to " make an ex- 
periment on the tastes of the children " — he used to admire that 
work when he liimself was a boy. He unrelentingly records: 

" Not one (if tlicm cxcc|)liiiK George appeared to take the slightest interest in it; nor is there 
one of them who has any relish for literature. Charles has a great fondness for books and a medita- 
tive mind, but neither disposition for public speaking or correct reading. Charles must teach himself 
all that he learns. He will learn nothing from others." 

This same Charles in after life prescribed Pope and Milton and 
other English classics for his own son Charles, who in turn evinced 
a disrelish discouraging to the parental heart, and has lived to 
grow up and publicly warn other fathers against the uselessness of 
such training for their lads. He says : 

" When I was young, I remember, my father, from a conscientious feeling, I suppose, that he 
ought til do something positive fni my mental and moral good and general aesthetic cidtivation, 
made me learn Pope's Messitih by heart, and a number of other masterpieces of the same character, 
lie might just as well have tried to feed a sucking baby on roast beef and Scotch ale ! Without 
understanding a word of il, I learned the Messiah by rote, and 1 have hated il, and its author too, 
friini that day to this, and I hate ihcm now." 

He was, he says, "a considerable devourer of books," but does 
not think himself the rieliL'r for hax'ing been " incited to read 
Hume's History of ]'liio^laiui, and Robertson's Charles I', and 
Gibbon's Roiiiei' and he adds : 

"The great masterpieces of human research and elotjucncc and fancy are to boys pure 
nuisances. . . . Human beings have to lie interested and amused, and thev do not love to 
be bored." 

It is not very improbable that his little granddaughter and his 



3o8 



rill i.iMiiY oi ioH.\ QL i.\cy .in.lMS. 



young niece — the " .\bi;j;ail Adams" and the "Dorothy Q." nf 
to-day — listen to Kini^slev s Water liabics and Alice In Wonder- 
la mi awA 1 la\vthi>rne's Wonder Tales. 

Gcorjfe represented lioston in tlie State Le_<fislature. but grad- 
ually became more or less a prey to intemperate habits, ttnj common 



FAMILY KECOBD. 






S.rll» 



1 i .H^^^ -^ ""' -"^ ■^^- 






>v J- u^ <—« »!■£-- *^ 

.^~ll. .j'^yt-^f—. IK— « 



KAMII.V RKCURD t.KAK. 
(^rnm th,J.thH OuiHcy Adams Biblt ; imnuj fy If. C Jo*Hi.m. .VfmWl/or/, .U.im.) 




a fate for the young men i)f his day. Jdurneyini; to Washington in 
1S29, lie was lost overboard frt)m the steamer Benjamin Franklin 
between Boston and New York; his life was ended at twenty-eight. 

John was born in Boston, on a l-'ourth of July, in 1S03. W ith 



THE FAMILY OF JOHN QC/INCV ADAMS. 309 

that name and that date of birth it is marvelous that he escaped 
becoming a President. He was the young American whom Gen- 
eral Lafayette cautioned to not become ambitious for high places. 
Perhaps the f)ld Frenchman who had seen so many uprisings in 
his own land feared that this descendant of the Presidential 
Adamses might conceive the idea that he could overthrow the 
republic and make himself Emperor; they may have had this bit 
of political conversation while they were driving from Washington 
down into Virginia to pay those famous visits to the old ex-Presi- 
dents, for John accompanied his father and the (General on that 
famous occasion. 

([Jj3hn, like George, was graduated J«)m Harvard, and afterward 
studied law. He was not so brilliant a man as his brother, though 
handsomer, nor so uniformly agreeable and popular, having a cer- 
tiin arrogancy of feeling and considerable hotness of temper. But 
he was persistent and trustworthy, and it was he instead of George 
who carried off the beautiful cousin at the White House and made 
her Mrs. Adams. 

In the February of 1S28 the charming, old-fashioned, small 
evening wedding took place in the Blue Room; particulars are 
recorded in an old manuscript journal kept by one of the brides- 
maids, Miss Abby Adams ( the family has never wanted for an 
"Abigail Adams") who was sj^ending that winter at the White 
House — the same yellow old diary in which was discovered, not 
long ago, the silhouette of a sweet baby, Mary Louisa Adams, the ' 
first girl ever born in the President's House. The bride wore 
orange flowers and white satin and pearls, and " she looked very 
handsome," and she had four bridesmaids, and they enjoyed an 
amusing time, before the}' joined the groomsmen in the circular 



3IO 



luj jiAr/fv or foirx qvixcy .ir>.i.\rs 




l.l.OUi.l. WASIIINGI'ON ADAMS. 
(From /*<• /Vi/x/iWA" •"'■•ifil'y II'. C.Joliiiuu,, K> 

It must not be suppose'd 
tliat tliis iM-id.il had tlir liril 
liant setting of a wc'dclin;^ 
in our day at tlie White 
House. I'here was no con- 
servatory then, the grounds 
were rough and uncultivated, 
the iiouse was lighted with 
candles, and the fine East 
Room was bare and empt\ 
save for the mahogany frann > 
of .some unupholstered sofas 
and chairs. When General 



nmm, in arranging tlower> 
and ribbons; and alter the 
ci-remony they " pas.sed the 
cake through the ring" and 
cut slices to distribute 
among friends, and the 
next day they all assembled 
again in the Yellow Room 
tor the rece|)tion ; "and." 
says this young bridesmaid 
from Quincy, "it was one 
of the pleasantest days I 



Jull.S AUAM3. 
.\t„u I 




CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS AT NIXETEF.N. 
{From the {>ainting by King ; formerly owned by Mrs. Charles Fram 



, Boston.) 



THE J'AM/I.y OF JOnX Ql'lNCY ADAMS. 3,3 

Lafayette made his visit, lliis famous l^iast Room was given up 
lo liim as a depository lor tlie maii\' curiosities sent him, some 
live aUigators being among the gifts. Just hi'fore the (do>e of the 
Administration, Mrs. Adams, as an agreeable sur]M-isc, stationed 
the Marine liand in the great echoing apartment and threw it 
open for dancing at one of her "drawing-rooms." The city of 
Washington itself was disagreeable, unattractive. The streets were 
in so bad condition that an "overset" of the carriage was no 
unusual incident in going to a White I louse reception, and at a 
certain grand ball given by an I'Jiibassador the coaches of a for- 
eign minister and a member of Congress were tipped over at 
his door. 

A series of wedding dinners followed John's marriage, when 
notwithstanding the depressing views concerning his conversa- 
tional powers which we find in his diar)-, the President was said to 
be the best talker at table. Mr. Adams tells us that one e\'ening 
he " went fiut in search of conversation" — something which he 
" never knew how to make or control." I [e sets it down that he is 
"a silent animal," and tliat his dear motlier's early dictum that 
'• children should be seen and not heard " has wrought his social 
ruin. He adds : "Nor can I always altogether avoid a dogmati- 
cal and peremptory tone and manner, always disgusting." .\fter 
the marriage, in Washington society Mrs. John Quincy Adams 
was designated as " Madam," and the younger matron as " Mrs 
John." 

/ Tlie youngest son of the family, Charles I'rancis, was born in 
Boston in 1807. I le was christened in tlie Presbyterian church, 
and during most of his life lived near his birthpkue, although, as 



',14 '^'"''- /••■'■'^/>' * Ol- JOUX QL IXCY ADAMS. 

we know, he made a long sea voyage wlien he wa> Ijiil iwo ye.ii> 
old, at the time his father was appointed Minister to Russia. He 
remained in Riis>ia nearly six years, and in that time he learned 
to speak I''rench, (ierman and Russian, with tiuency, and one may 
venture to feel that his father ought to have been satisfied with 
these attainments in an eight-year-(»ld boy. 

Charles was tiie only one of the brothers who ever saw the lit- 
tle sister, Catherine Louisa, who lies buried in great Russia so 
many thousands of miles away from the American home. lie 
witnessed the pretty sight of her christening in the parlor, by a 
clergyman of the English Church. It was at four o'clock in the 
afternoon, and there were two godmothers and a godfather and 
seventeen witnesses, most of them members of the diplomatic 
corps. We are not told that she acted very differently from her 
.Aunt Abigail who was carried to church, but there was much 
difference in the ceremony, and the sponsors and witnesses not 
only took dinner with the family, but spent the evening at cards. 
Little Catherine Louisa was probably not lulled to sleep in the 
cradle of the country, for her father did not ajiprove of it; he says, 
" It is a sort of hammock suspended by four small cords from the 
end of an elastic pole, fastened by the other end near the head of 
the bed. It hangs about four feet from the floor and the mother 
can reach her hand to the pole to rock the cradle from her bed by 
bending the pole at pleasure. It is a clumsy contrivance and the 
child must be always in danger of falling to the floor, an accident 
which four times in five tnust prove fatal." He would have pre- 
ferred to lay his daughter in the old hereditary wood cradle at 
Quincy in which he himself had been rocked by his sister Abigail. 
Writing from .St. Petersburi; to his father Mr. Adams savs: "Two 




(^Dorothy Qiiiiuy o/ Ded/iai/i, Mass. : daughter of Dr. Heury and Mary Adams Qnincy ; granddaughter of Charles 
Francis Adams^ Esq.; great-great-grandiiaughter of President fohft Adams, and great-great-grandnt'ece of 
the'' Dorothy Q." celehrated in Dr. rJoiwes's famous />oem.) 



THE FAMILY OF JOIIX QCINCY ADAAfS. 317 

years have nearly gone by since my only daughter was taken from 
me, and to this hour I cannot meet in the street an infant of her 
age in its UKjther's arms but it cuts me to the heart." 

Though so able a linguist, the little Charles Francis was very 
shy, very unapproachable, and was not always ready to answer 
even the kind questions of the Emperor whom they often met. 
He was a favorite at the Imperial palace, notwithstanding, and was 
frequently sent for to come there, where he was made mucli of by 
the Empress and Grand Duchesses and the various other Roy- 
alties. His father devoted several hours a day to his training, and 
the little fellow committed to memory, among other things, as 
lessons in English, Addison's versions of the nineteenth and twen- 
ty-third Psalms. Is it small wonder that he became somewhat 
taciturn '^. 

During the last year of the Russian residence the whole 
Continent was involved in war, and little Charles and his mother 
made a perilous journey to join Mr. Adams who had been obliged 
to go to Paris. It was spring-time, but not spring-time of buds 
and flowers — in that climate spring means snow and frost and 
ice. The little boy never forgot that journe)'. \\'ar was in c\i- 
dence everywhere ; when they were not driving through wild 
forests and gloomy hamlets, they were coming upon abandoned 
battlefields and they saw the traces of bloodshed and suffering. 
At each stopping-place they were obliged to listen to tales of 
murder, plunder and desolation. They scarcely dared (express an 
opinion lest they themselves should be attacked. (3nce they be- 
came fast in a snowdrift and only after many cries of distress did 
])eople venture near to dig them out. It was prophesied on every 
liand that America must soon fall from her position as a republic, 



.>''^ 



nil- iJMiiv ()/ /()//.\ tjr/.vcy .U).4Afs. 



ami tlial, too, afHicted the silent little American with shivers of 
fear. Iluv reached I'. iris the ni<>lit following the re-entrance of 
Napoleon from Hlba, and many straiiLje scenes of street turmoil 

were fixed indelibly upon 
l)is childish memory. 

I le met his older 
i)rothers in London soon 
liter, and remained there 
tor three years in school, 
md perhaps was the fag 
cif some big English boy, 
iluis being made to atone 
lor his grandfather's re- 
iiellion against British 
rule. 1 le came home to 
Oiiincy, a bookish little 
id of ten, to learn to 
love dearly the grand- 
|iarents of whom he had 
iieard so much from his 
brothers, who had i ome to 
llngland fresh from their 
Irolics on Penn's Hill 
with their madcap cousin 
Susanna and her sister. 
Charles was graduated from li.irwird the year his father was 
made President. He studied law in Washington and Moston, but 
soon, obedient to the stirrings of the Adams blood, entered poli- 
tics I ik'- his father and his grandfather, he was not a good 




\N Mllr.MI. .Mi.WIS Ol- lc>-|ixv. 

ylhimfklrr ,-i II,;, l.,l,„ ijMimr A,l,ii,i>. /?!•(/,•«, 

•i,liilChlri .■/ rr<ii,lrHlJt<hn QHiiuy A,l,liii 



THE FAMILY OF JOHN QUIA'CV ADAMS. 319 

"party man." His kingly conscience and his unclouded percep- 
tion of truth prevented. He commanded the full respect of all 
parties. He " made up his mind" afresh, and with perfect inde- 
pendence, whenever affairs presented a new combination, yet was 
always ready, right and able with his vote as a man, witli his argu- 
ment and advice as a statesman, with his action as a legislator or 
as an embassador. His most valuable service to the country is 
considered to be his course in England, as .Vmerican Minister, 
during our late Civil War. It lias been wittily said that his 
action at the Court of St. James "prevented England from becom- 
ing the Founder of the Southern Confederacy." It is equally 
true that the national view of the war governed him, never the 
sectional. He was the Adams of the third generation to be Min- 
ister to Great Britain. He rendered, also, no inconsiderable good 
to his country when he prepared his father's journals for publica- 
tion. This great work, in many volumes, must be sought by 
those who wish to study at first hand the making of our republic. 
This youngest son married a wealthy Massachusetts lady and 
reared a distinguished family. A writer in the Boston Post said 
of Mrs. Adams at the time of her death : 



" Mrs. Adams accompanied her husband to Washington in 1859, and in his arduous missions 
to London and Geneva, and to her, not less than to him, are the thanks of all her countrymen due 
for maintaining her countryV honor in the most trying circumstances of English social life, where 
the aristocratic sentiment was notoriously hostile, with a combination of generosity, playfulness, 
franl<ness, constancy, culture and dignity, which no one but herself perhaps could have so thoroughly 
exhibited, to the admiration of her new friends in England, and the profound satisfaction of all 
Americans. Her untiring and sympathetic companionship was given to her illustrious husband 
alike in his days of public service and in those of retirement, and since his decease she had lived 
in a narrower circle, but her wide accomplishments, her overflowing geniality her keen attention 
to all whom her regard embraced — and they were very many — her constant liberality, her 1111 
failing sense of duty, will keep her memory green in many hearts long after the last duties are 



.20 ^'tf''- /--/''///-J OJ- JOILX (Ji7.\Cy AD. (MS. 

yiMiX. tl may be interesting to gentalonisis to note that Mr. auJ Mrs. A(lam> were related to tlie 
sixtli generation by common descent from 'I'homas Itoylston of llrooltline." 

A writer in llic Boston Transcript paid a discriininatiiii^ 
tribute: 

"Tliose wlio were intimately acquainted with Mrs. Adams, and who had read the charming 
volume edited bv her husband, containing the familiar letters of .Mrs. Abigail Adams, his grand- 
mother, the wife of the second I'resident, allowing for the changes of time and circumstance 
through a century, could hardly fail to be struck with many resemblances in the sterling qualities 
of character in both these ladies. In both appeared those traits, principles and habits which we 
associate with the highest type and pattern of a New Kngland woman trained under the simple 
frugalities and home culture of the last two generations, with opportunities for solid mental de- 
velopment and intimate converse with men in public life. In both these ladies there were strong 
resemblances of experience in their married life as wives of highly gifted and eminent men, 
charged with national service, and mothers of sons on whom would rest the entailed obligations of 
like service in the ever expanding and increasing demands which the republic makes upon its 
more favored citizens. With both these ladies, the home, the household, with its privacies, its 
daily routine of duties, and its constant attention to demands small and great, in the economics of 
affairs and in responsibilities which arc not lessened when shared and divided, was the center fur 
their thoughts and interest. Fidelity in this home-life would rather prompt than restrict a larger 
outlook upon all outside concerns as comprehending friends, neighbors, and the families which in 
the gross extend into a community and a people. The first thought which one would associate 
with both the >frs. .\dams was their exemplary (|ualities as wives and mothers." 

Charles lived to a venerable old age. Passing his winters in 
Hoston, he spent the summers of his later years at the old man- 
sion in Quincv where the two Presidents had lived. The house 
became a more lu.xurious liome in his time; old President John 
dreaded the New England winter tempered onlv bv wood fires, 
and wished he could go to sleep at the approach of cold weather, 
like a dormouse, not to waken until spring. 



THE FAMILY OF JOHN QUINCY ADAMS. 



321 



CHAPTER III. 



LATER DAYS. 




r 



WHITE HOUSE TOYS. 
{Belottged to a set of iniriiaturc 
kjiives and forks, not over an 
inch long, presented to the 
President dy S. Pooiey, ayotcng 
matiteinatical'instmntent mak- 
er ; at iJt£ time of the fre at 
the lyhite House tliey -were 
stolen, but some were dropped 
outside and fotijtd, this pair 
among them • they were given 
Susanna Boyhton Adams hy 
the President.) 



N February, 1S29, there was an evening 
christening at the Executive Mansion 
and the baby daughter of Mr. and Mrs. John 
Adams was baptized " Mary Lousia." It 
was a particularly stately occasion. Cabinet 
Ministers and Chief Justices bowed low at the 
feet of the White House baby to present their 
gifts and good wishes, while she had for god- 
father no less a man than the stately old 
General Stephen Van Renssalaer, " the last 
of the Patroons," the great friend of her 
grandfather whom he had made President by the " casting vote " 
which he held. 

The prayer-book which her godfather gave the little Mary 
Louisa is preserved in her husband's home — for this White 
House baby grew up, and was married, and lived her life, and has 
long been dead. (Mr. William C. Johnson, her husband, was her 
cousin ; a grandson of Charles, the son of her great-grandfather. 
President John Adams, and a grandnephew of her grandfather. 
President John Ouincy Adams.) In company with the prayer-book 
is kept her christening gift from the old Patroon — a set of Cupid 
cameos; bracelets, necklace and brooch. The triple chains of fine 



322 



mi: l:\MIJ.\ Of JOH.\ Ql INLY AI\IMS. 



i>()lcl arc a puz/le of rings and twists and coils. A snowy winged 
Cupid on a living run clasps one of the bracelets ; pauses to stoop 

md kiss a slim pet dog 
'U the other; sits to 
ust and plavs Pan's pipes 
' 'U the brooch ; swings 
a garland on the clasp 
I if the necklace — we can 
imagine the benign old 
gentleman smilingly se- 
lecting the jewelry with a 
\iew to its charms for a 
Naby's eye. 

There is an irresistible 
kissable little silhouette of 
her in baby days — that 
funny little picture found 
between the leaves of the 
old diary of her mother's 
bridesmaid ; her portrait as a child, which hangs in her husband's 
house, shows her to have been a demure, modest and self-possessed 
little girl, as indeed it well became the great-granddaughter of 
Mistress Abigail Adams to be. 

Her cousin VN'illiam first nut her when she was about thirteen. 
He says of her in a recent letter that "she was then, owing to the 
circumstances of the family's official position and the not very 
strong health of her grandmother and mother, a fully-matured 
woman assisting in receiving and entertaining; and it has alwavs 
been my opinion that she never had any ' young life ' in the ordi- 




MAi;v I "I I 

(nauiklrr of John AJtinu : grilMiitlaughlrr of I'retiJrHt John 
C'lii'.r AJ.iint. From Iht f>iiHling mriVil hy her k«sh>iiJ, II'. 
C. JkIihjoh, Ksi)., Xni'l-uryforl. ,I/lui.l 



THE FAMfl.y OF JOHN QUINCY ADAMS. 323 

nary acceptance of that term — certainly I never heard of any." 
Notwithstanding this, it is certain that Mary Louisa had a doll, 
who is "still living; '" "a big rag baby, ' Sally,' the first and only 
doll," writes Mr. Johnson 
who owns and cherishes 
"Sally;" "a personage," 
he says, " who has served 
faithfully each subsecjuent 
childhood in our family." 
She had it in the White 
House days. Her great- 
aunt, Mrs. Thomas Boyl- 
ston Adams, made it for 
her just before these entries 
in the bridesmaid's diary : 

ThursJay, 26th Feby., 1829. 
Mrs. J. Q. Adams, Mrs. Joliii 
Adams and Eaby left the I'resideiit's 
House for Meridian Hill. 

4th March, 1829. 
Genl. Jackson was inaugurated as 
President of the U. S. . . And the 
places that have Icnown us shall know us 
no more. 

This little Mary Louisa 
became the center of the 
home life, the especial dar- 
ling of her grandfather, the 
President ; in a poem, " A 

,,.. ) r~, 1) • r UKtSS WURN HY .MAKY LOUISA AIIAMS AT HER CllKIS- 

Winters Day, written for xening in the white house. 




324 



Till'. I-AMIIV OJ- JOllX QllXCY ADAMS. 



his wilo ((It'sciil)ini; liis life 
in \\';i.sluiit;l(in cliuiiii; liic 
scssii)n), liL- .says he is ever 
ready to 

" Clap the h:ind.s .iiul laugh and sing 
Tocalch thai heaven, an infant's smile," 

when Baby Mary is bruuglit 
in after dinner. Some 
verses wliich her lirand- 







TIIK CIIKISTEMNli I'KKSKNT. 
i^Ciimrot gnvH Mary Limiia AiiitMi at tke 
II 'hitf llouif, hy hfr i^odfathtr, irtneral 
Stf^fH I 'iiN KfHtutlaer. .V<m' owned by 
ir. C./ohluoM. /iif.) 



IIIK lAlklMlNs IS-,, Kill I... S. 
{/h ChrhtfHiMj^ BiNr gntn to Mary Louita /li/amj.) 

mother \vrt)te to her on her second 
birthday sliow that " Looly's " baby 
days tripped past merrily, however early 
she may have become a dignified lit- 
tle society woman, and that Mother 
Goose was a familiar friend of the 
family : 

TO Miss MARY I.OLISA AUAMS. 
7/;<- lUrlliJ.iy, 1830. 

Sweet lovely little thing! 

I greet thee with my love: 
Thy praises fondly would I sing, 

Couldst thou my song approve. 

Methinks I see thy liquid eye 

Sparkling with frolick glee; 
I hear thy sportive laughing crv. 

So joyous, wild and free, 

While running round to catch papa. 

Swift racing In and fro ; 
Then listening to ihv fund mamma — 

" l.ooly ! dance Jimmy Crow ; " 



THE FAMILY OF JOHN QU/NCV ADAMS. 



325 



So many little tales to tell, 
And little songs to sing 

'Bout pussy cat is in the well, 
Ding dong the bells do ring I 



And pray, thou sweet and lovely child, 
That flowers may strew thy way ; 

That virtuous hours, by bliss beguiled, 
May bless this yearly day. 

L. C. Adams. 



The President was al- 
ways pleased to have young- 
people in his home. A 
niece who was a great 
deal in the family at the 
White House some sixty 
years ago, and is still, at 
eighty, a woman of youth, 
and vivacity and elegance, 
says of her uncle that " he 
was not cold as he ap- 
peared to the world — he 
took much interest in all 
the young persons round 
him. He was ' especially 
fond of astronomy and 
had a fine glass on the 
top of the house and used 
to go up in the even- 
ing and give us les- 
sons in astronomy." At 

Ouincy, when he and John went on from Washington to the old 
homestead at the time of his father's death, he sought to forget 
his grief in the society of the young people, and made it a 




"bAl.l.Y, II 
^Bi'lotigedto lilary Lo 



Will IK lliili^K IJUI.L. 
I and Georgiiina Frattces Adains.) 



326 'Jilt- i-.-iMJJ.Y O J- JOHN Ql L\CY ADAMS. 

practice to go out with tlioni in llic road in front of the house to 
trace constellations. 

lie tau;^ht the little Mary Louisa her alphabet, and it was a 
proud day when she did really " know her letters. " She was pro- 
moled at once to the Bible. Mr. Johnson says in a letter: 

"The religion!) element tv.is a doniin.iiit cliaracteri»tic u( I're!>idciu Juliii (juincy Adams ; 
the ISible was to liim the liouk of books, the sum of all truth, the main staff of life and ho|>c of 
immortality, the very suhslunce nf things hoped for. He was a most assiduous student of its 
pages and not a day w.is ever allowed to pass without the reading of at least a chapter, and it was 
his ever const.int resort for rest or refreshment. He thought it should he the first book for infant 
eyes to peruse, as well as the last in the hands of expiring .ige. In this regard his first care was 
that, as soon as might be, the ' Haby Mary ' — child of his delight — should be taught to read : 
and this he made his personal care with such success that at the age of three years she was able 
to commence the reading .iloud to him of the Itible, in course, as a daily duty. Thus at the 
period of my first meeting her at thirteen years of age, she was well on in the fourth perusal of 
the liible, word by word, verse and chapter. 

"This fact 1 have hiard repeatedly from the whole family and have often heard it from the 
I'residenl's own lips uttered with a rapt expression of triumph." 

Naturally one of her grandfather's earlv gifts was a Bible; the 
one he gave her at nine has a presentation poem, " The Casket," 
from his own pen. 

There was a younger sister, Georgiana Frances, and Miss 
Adams says that both of the children used to go to their grand- 
father's room every morning to read the Bible with him. He was 
often amused at the remarks they sturdilv made, and the questions 
they asked. " He always," she says, " attended the Unitarian 
Church in the morning and the Presbyterian in the afternoon, 
and always some of the young people went with him. He did not 
like to hear young persons criticise the sermons or the music ; he 
would say, never a sermon that had not some good in it for him." 

To imagine the great statesman with the little girls at his knee. 






THE INSCRll'TlON IN THE BIBLE. 



THE FAMILY OF JOHN QUINCY ADAMS. ,39 

talking to them over the open Bible, is to see a beautiful picture. 
It accords with the grandeur of the man who disdained to possess 
" a language official and a language confidential," whom party 
could not rule, nor guide, nor hold, nor count upon, whom the 
mere politician cannot, to this day, understand, fathom, or forgive ; 



Ju^ A^JUU. ^^^ ^^^-^^ ^^ ^— '^^^ 

. . . "I was rejoiced also to find your handwriting much improved; be- 
cause I feel that with perseverance of attention you will ere long write as neat and 
elegant a hand as your own mamtna ; and in my judgment that is one of the most 
precious accomplishments that a lady can acquire — This neatness of handwriting 
is obtainable only by constant practice continued for years, and that same practice 
while improving the hand has the same favorable effect upon the style. This is 
the secret of the fact long observed both in France and England, of the superiority 
of the female style of Letter-writing — Another and a still more elevated accomplish- 
ment for a lady "... 

^ 3 ^cidr'^yT^ 



PART <J1- A LETTER FRDM PRESIIjENT JOHN QUINCY ADAMS TO HIS GR ANDDAUCHTER. 

it accords with the simplicity of the man who, when an old man 
as trustingly as his little granddaughters might, used to repeat 
every night : 

" Now I lay me down to sleep 
I pray the Lord my soul to keep ; 
If I should die before I wake 
I pray the Lord my soul to take ; 
And this I ask for Jesus' sake." 



Tin-. JAMIJy OJ- JOJ/A QL/NCY .4DAMS. 



He wrote long letters from time to time to this dear grand- 
daughter. The sheets show the same neatness and precision 
wiiich characterize the diaries and the state papers, the same ele- 
gance of diction and chirog- 
raph)- which the venerable 
gentleman of threescore years 
and ten commends to the 
young girl, though the pen- 
strokes are tremulous ; he 
must have written with the 
aid of the steel ring and 
pen-socket which he wore 
in his old age to steady his 
|)cn. 

This letter should benefit 
other girls of fourteen as 
doubtless it did the small 
Miss Adams. 

John Ouincy Adams oc- 
cupied a greater number of 

iCiU .11 iMe irkilt HoHir. Ilu lail jirar e/ Ikt rniidriux. h impOrtaUt officCS tliaU liaS 
HuHtirJ, Ikt itUbrntt<l lillunutliil a/ Ikr timt. l>WMrJ hy ' 

»KuE.c.Adam,,QmH<y,Mn,,^ any othcr mau in the United 

States. He may be said, literally, to have lived and died in 
his country's service. He died in Washington, in Congress, 
stricken with apoplexy while standing at his seat attempting to 
address the Chair. 

Probably in no public man since his time has there been so 
marked a union of strength and humility. Take as an illustration 
(remembering meanwhile that he was popularly denominated " the 




MUs. JiillN c.iIlNl Y ADAMS 



THE FAMILY OF JOHN QU/NCY ADAMS. 



331 



Old Man Eloquent") his own study upon his failure to become a 
good debater. In referring to this deficiency he says: 



" It is slowness o£ comprehension — an incapacity to grasp tlie whole compass of a subject 
in the mind at once with such an arrangement as leaves a proper impression of the detail — an 
incajjacity to form ideas properly precise and definite with the rapidity necessary to give them 
uninterrupted utterance. My manner, therefore, is slow, hesitating and often much confused. 
Sometimes from inability to furnish the words to finish a thought commenced I begin a sentence 
with propriety and end it with nonsense. Sometimes after carrying through an idea of peculiar 
force to its last stage, the want of a proper word at close drives me to use one which throws the 
whole into a burlesque, and sometimes the most important details of argument escape my mind at 
the moment when I want them, though ever ready to present them before and after. Hence I 
never know when I have finished any given 
subdivision of my subject. And hence in 
making the transition from one part of it 
to the other, I am often compelled to take 
a minute or two for recollection, which 
leaves a chasm of silence always disa- 
greeable to the hearers. I must, there- 
fore, never flatter myself with the hope of 
oratorical distinction." 




He does not fail to set 
down the details of the rem- 
edy which he means to ap- 
ply. It is good reading for 
young men, and may be 
found on p. 332, Vol. i. of 
the Memoirs by his son, 
Charles Francis Adams. He 
says in another place, " I 
lament the want of genius because I want a mighty agent for the 
service of my country." 

To read the journal of this great statesman is to be taken into 



JOHN QUINCY ADAMS. 
(Cut hy HuMHirJ,at Ike While House. Owned l>y Miss E. C. 



332 



THI- IA.\ril V OJ- Ji)lt\ QllXCY .tD.l.US. 




Illh OLD ADAMS HOUSE AT gUINCV. 
( From ,t ilnmuMj! m'MtH *r Mia H. C. A J.t'«is ; a .x/i>rf w /*/ir 



ciJiigrhy both tkf Prtiitttttts. Nmv knawh 
Fram-is Atiitms //ac^" "t 



• Ihr M Charles 



the intimacy of a fine nature. A delicate sense (if honor ruled 
him. .As sensitive as he was fearless, the appreciation and appro- 

_ bation of his fellowmen 

were very dear to him. 
There are portions of the 
sixteen bulky volumes of 
the Memoirs which ought 
to be witliin easy reach of 
every high-schoolboy in our 
country. 

His secondary tastes and 
leanings were toward liter- 
a'v pursuits and rural labors. 
He recreated himself in Washington with the planting of trees 
and the study of arboriculture: in his intervals at Ouincy he was 
often to be seen in his gar- 
den of. a hot day in a suit 
of striped jeans, with a five- 
cent chip hat; nor suffered 
a loss of self-respect if a dis- 
tinguished visitor came un- 
e.xpectedly down the path. 
Several poems in manu- 
.script remain to attest his 
facility of expression in 
rhymes and measures ; 
these poems abound with 
point and epigram. On occasion, he dipped his pen in caustic. 
The .\damses, the original John antl .Abigail — some one has 




VIKW OF "TIIF. OLD CllAKI.K.s tKANCIS ADAM' 
li ACK," AS IT IS TO-DAY. 



THE FAMILY OF JOHN QUINCY ADAMS. 333 

said that though eight colonial generations preceded him Presi- 
dent John is always spoken of as " the first Adams " — were 
patriots, fighters and Spartans ; but as old letters are yielded up 
we see that the family pride and family love flowed in a strong 
tide. John Ouincy Adams was fondly proud of his father and 
father's father, of his sons and his sons' sons. His joy is plainly 
to be seen when Charles Francis has a son and gives him his 
name — John Ouincy. His heart swells within him, although 
he uses no adjectives as he chronicles the event, and he sees 
future generations who will bear his name ; and no President, 
could he come back to take a look at his descendants, would 
be better satisfied. 



VII. 

THE HOUSEHOLD OF ANDREPV JACKSON. 



THE HOUSEHOLD OF ANDREW JACKSON. 



CHAPTER I. 



A GLIMPSE OF THE PRESIDENT S BOYHOOD. 




AS a great fighter, a 
stern magistrate, 
and as a model husband 
and father, Andrew Jack- 
son may stand as an illus- 
tration of the poet's line, 



'The bravest are the tenderest.' 



In personal appear- 
ance he was formidable 
to his enemies — and 
enemies in plenty Andrew Jackson always had, political and social. 
Some one vvriting at the period of his Presidency describes the 
Chief Magistrate as possessing eyes of deep brilliant blue with 
a dangerous fixedness in them and overhung by bushy gray eye- 
brows, his loose electric hair (it was red when he was young) 
brushed obstinately back from a high narrow forehead and "worn 
with an expression of bristling bayonets," his long, thin, light-com- 
plexioned face like molten steel in repose. 

337 



JACKSON CARRIAGE, MADE FROM THE WAR-SHIP 

IRONSIDES." 



338 till- iiousi-.iioi.n oi' Axnia-.w jACKsox. 

No man ever lived more fond of his own fireside, more "bound 
up" in the happiness of his family; their love for him made his 
daily sunshine. He and his wife remained a pair of lovers until 
the day of her death. He had no children of his own; neverthe- 
less his home fur many years was a home for little folk. If old 
letters and family memories may be trusted, and if outward demon- 
stration and untiring devotion are signs of love, this hot-headed 
and belligerent man was the most tender of " foster fathers." 

The little people by whom he ^urr()unded himself were, for the 
most part, his wife's young relatives, with now and then a waif or 
a neighbor's child. Upon one relative's death the Master of the 
Hermitage did not make it a matter of difficulty to take the widow 
under his own roof, nor to look after the education of her children. 
His house, like the homes of Washington and John Adams and 
Jefferson, was " the gathering place of the clan ; " to the kinsfolk 
he was the " head of the family," the natural protector, guardian 
and adviser. We do not find Jacksons or Crawfords around the 
Hermitage fireplace ; when in his fiery youth he came up out of 
the Carolinas to "seek his fortune," he left his blood-kindred be- 
hind if any there were, and seems never afterward to have met 
with them. 

No one of the previous Presidents had known an unkempt, 
ragamuffin boyhood. Even the son of the small Massachusetts 
farmer, John Adams, was a Harvard graduate. Washington had 
crrown \\\> with the descendants of noblemen. Jefferson, Madison 
and Monroe had been liberally and fastidiously educated, con- 
sorting with scholars, John Quincy .Adams had spent his youth 
in the best society of Europe. Politics, affairs, books, had been 
their common food. 






ii 






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K- 


HL 1 1 ^^^^^1 




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ii 


i 




Mk.s. K.UllhL JACKSON, WIKK OK PRKSIDIlNT JACKSUN*. 
{From the pamting hy Kari.) 




PRESIDENT ANDREW JACKSON. 
{From tlie painting by Earl.) 



THE HOUSEHOLD OF ANDREW JACKSON. o^. 

But our young Andrew Jackson, the wiry, lithe, freckled- 
faced, red-headed lad, son of the Scotch-Irish emigrant linen- 
weaver, got his scanty schooling in the log schoolhouses of 
"the Waxhaws " in the Carolina pine-woods. Mr. Jackson had 
died before this son was born. Mrs. Jackson, however, like the 
mother of many another notable man, was determined upon the 
education of this son, and she is recorded to have spun flax to 
earn money for his school-bills; presently in his coarse copperas- 
colored homespun Andrew graduated from the mud-plastered, 
slab-seated schoolhouse into another log-built institution, Dr. 
Humphries' academy, where, like the college graduate of our day, 
he chiefly distinguished himself as a wrestler, runner, and high- 
jumper. He had no other advantages over his fellows — not then, 
nor for several years. Old people who were living some years ago 
around Queen's College at Charlotte, where young Jackson studied 
for a time, used to relate with zest how the young President-that- 
was-to-be " often passed along down the street to school with his 
trousers too ragged to keep his shirt from flying in the wind." 

"The Waxhaws" are rife with traditions of Andrew's prowess 
as a boy. He was undoubtedly quick-tempered and quarrelsome. 
But Mr. James Parton (who some years ago went down into the 
Carolinas to gather together all that was remembered of President 
Jackson's early davs, preparatory to writing his Life) states that 
an old schoolmate said "of all the boys he had ever known Andrew 
Jackson was the only bully who was not a coward ; " and that 
always he was a " generous protector to young boys." 

In regard to Andrew's education, Mr. Parton says: 

"He learned to read, to write, and cast accounts — little more. . . . He was never a 
well-informed man. He never was addicted to books. He never learned to write the English 



344 



THE uoisEHOLn or AX/^h'/.tr j.icksox 



langiugc correctly, though he of ten wrote it cloquviilly ami convincingly, lie ntvcr learned to 
.s|>ell correctly, though he was a better speller than Kredetick ii., Marlborough, Napoleon or 
Washington." 

Andrew wa.s but nine years old when the War of Independence 
broke out, and only thirteen when he wa.s out fV^hliiii; Tarleton's 
dragoons in company with his two brothers and hundreds of other 
Carolina boys — young centaurs charging the British cavalry on 
the " grass ponies " they themselves had reared and broken. L'p 
to this period he and his mother and brothers had lived as "poor 
relations" with relatives, always paying their way, though, with 
hard labor. Eacli and all of them full of native Scotch indepen- 
dence and the Irish hwe of the fireside, no doubt the hapless Jack- 
son family often longed to be under a roof of their own; and there 
is no doubt that when he was a man the memory of his fatherless 
boyhood and those homeless harum-scarum years in the Waxhaws. 
turned his sympathies tenderly toward all children, filling him 
with a longing to bestow shelter and care, comforts and jjleasures. 
Likewise there is no doubt that the impression made upon him by 
the knowledge of his mother's privations and toils, her devotion 
to him and his brothers, and her heroism and self-sacrifice, shaped 
his ideas regarding women and jjiompted the chivalrous treatment 
of them for which he was conspicuous during his entire life. 

Little has been written about Andrew Jackson's mother, but 
evidently she was a prototype of the women. North and South, 
who in our Civil War left home to care for the sick and wounded 
soldiery. Her own personal e.vpcrience of war's cruelties was 
appalling. One of her sons, Hugh, died on the battle-field. 
•Andrew and his other brother were taken prisoners and barba- 
rously treated. Mrs. Jackson made her way to the Camden prison 



THE HOUSEHOLD OF ANDREW JACKSON. 345 

and procured the release of the boys. She received them both 
sick with small-pox. Little And}/ struggled along homeward, 
forty miles through the woods, behind the horses that carried his 
mother and dying brother, " bareheaded, barefooted, without a 
jacket; his only two garments torn and dirty." Five of their 
neighbors' children, fiery young patriots, released through Mrs. 
Jackson's efforts, formed part of the dismal procession that wended 
its way back to the Waxhaw settlement. The good woman laid 
down her own life at last on a journey which she made to the 
Charleston prison-ships in order to effect the exchange of some 
of her young nephews and Waxhaw neighbors ; she died of the 
deadly ship-fever on the way home. 

Such was Andrew Jackson's mother, and such was Andrew 
Jackson's boyhood and his early education. 



346 JJJi- UOLSEJIOLl) OJ- A.VDKJiir J.ICKSON. 



Lii.\i'ri;K II. 



HEKOKI". Till-. Il<i;sll)i;.\( V. 

B\' llic time that the 
yiiung Suiitlierner 

_ "i^^St-viSSK was twenty-one he had 

k^^'i i'^ *' ^"5^ ■•-T^'fePfT' 

^^^^-^^^^Ziz^t--:-'- .. .,• ". -J j^ Jp iT' worked at the saddlers 

-^^^l^-:^-''-^;::.:^--- '-" ■ " trade, taught school, been 

■\Ut IIKSI lU-.KMirAUE; STILL STANDING. II' a. 1 

clerk in a store, served 
as constable, studied law and got his lawyer's license, had many 
adventures and laid up a fund of costly personal e.xperiences, which 
included much betting, racing, cock-fighting, gaming, and full 
shares of tavern carousing. With these possessions and a splen- 
did voung horse, he cast his ft)rtunes with a party of emigrants, 
and went up with them into Tennessee. Just a hundred years 
ago, this being 18S9, he opened a law office in Nashville, not 
manv miles distant from the " Hermitage " that was to be. 

Here young lackson threw himself body and soul into the 
work of his profession. His restlessness settled into activity, his 
aggressiveness took the form of business push and di^^patch. He 
became almost at once the popular lawyer of the region. Much 
of his time was spent in "long horseback rides from court hou>e 
to court house," armed to the teeth, for the region still swarmed 
with Indians, and the young lawyer had many an interesting fight 
and escape. 



THE HOUSEHOLD OF ANDREW JACKSON. 0,7 

04/ 

In 1 791 he married Mrs. Rachel Robards, of Virginia blood, 
whom Mr. Parton describes as being in her young days " a black- 
eyed, black-haired brunette, as gay, bold and handsome a lass as 
ever danced on the deck of a flat boat or took the helm while her 
father took a shot at the Indians ; " as a woman, he says she was 
"the best story-teller, the best dancer, sprightliest companion, the 
most dashing horsewoman in the Western country." 

The once-ragged lad of the Waxhaws soon set himself to work 
to amass property. The making of a home, the creation of an 
estate, became a beloved project. We shall see that more than 
once he sacrificed " a career " to this tender idea. He became pos- 
sessor of vast tracts of wild land. Mr. Parton says of those early 
days before Tennessee was admitted into the Union that "a law- 
yer's fee for conducting a suit of no great importance might be a 
square mile of land." He acquired thousands upon thousands of 
acres, and sold again profitably on the same baronial scale. 

When Tennessee was ready to go into the Union, number six- 
teen, young Jackson helped to draft the Constitution and was sent 
to Philadelphia to stand for his State in the House of Representa- 
tives. (It was during this first term, seeing the trouble caused by 
the action of the Bank of England in suspending specie payment 
of its notes, that Jackson settled it, once for all, in his own mind 
that the whole system of "paper promises to pay, was a bad feature 
of affairs.") During the session his early experience of war and 
soldiers' hardships pushed him forward as a champion, to demand 
that the services of a body of Tennesseean soldiers who had put 
down, unauthorized by Government, an uprising of Indians, should 
be recognized and paid — and "Mr. A. Jackson" succeeded in 
securing the sum of ^228.16 for the troop. 



348 TJIJ: nousiiioj D oi a.\j>kh\\jackson. 

He went home, intensely i)t)iJiilar in Tennessee, to be returned 
as a Senator. Hut finding his private affairs suffering for want 
of his presenee, he resigned presently, to be almost immediately 
elected to put on the gown of a Judge in tlie Superior Court of 
the State. It went against the grain of such a man to sit "quies- 
cent in a red morocco chair, seven successive months, playing 
Senator." As Judge his life was active, and the duties of his 
ofiice did not prevent him from running his frontier stores, and 
overseeing his ])lantations. 

Just at the time when his prospects of a flourishing business 
were at their best, came the failure of a man who had bought 
thousands of his acres, giving notes in payment with which Jack- 
son had bought goods in Philadelphia. It was a long hard struggle 
for Jackson to himself pay these notes, which amounted to a large 
sum. He took counsel with Mrs. Jackson, sold his home and 
plantation, with twenty-five thousand acres in addition, cleared f)ff 
all debts, resigned his judgeship, and began again. 

In 1.S04 the courageous young couple took up their abode in 
" a house of logs." the first Hermitage, which is still standing. 
Mr. Jackson proceeded to push his business desperately, and Mrs. 
Jackson to help him. Daily he would ride to his store, four miles, 
in the morning, serve customers all day, and then ride home again. 
He established branch stores, created a big flat-boat business be- 
tween Nashville and Natchez by shipping the produce taken for 
goods; he grew cotton, run a cotton gin, and raised and sold fine 
horses, mules and cattle. During his frequent absences Mrs. 
Jackson, cheery, shrewd and active, superintended her husband's 
business. He again prospered. He was "a man of soundest 
judgment, utterly honest, naturally honest ; would beggar himself 




<S()N, ADOPTED SON OF GEN. JACKSON. 
[From the paiuiing by Earl.) 



THE HOUSEHOLD OF ANDREW JACKSON. 351 

to pay a debt, and did so." It is said "there was never a day in 
his Hfe when his name to paper did not mal<e it gold." He found 
his recreation in training his racing colts; in those days the 
autumn races were the notable events of the region, and " great 
money " was made and lost in " bets," and Jackson owned the 
famous horse " Truxton." Challenges and duels, too, were in the 
fashion of the time, and one or two dark records have their place 
upon the pages of Jackson's biography. 

Both the house at Hunter's Hill and the Hermitage always 
had been a rendezvous for the little relatives and the children of 
the neighborhood, besides serving as taverns for travelers, and 
refuges for the unfortunate; but in 1S09 a child was legally 
adopted by Mr. and Mrs. Jackson to be their own. 

They both were passionately fond of children; and now, twin 
boys having been born to Mr. Savern Donelson, Mrs. Jackson's 
favorite brother, they proposed to this brother and his wife that 
they should give them, for their very own, one of these tiny twin 
boys. This, after some natural objection, Mr. and Mrs. Donelson 
agreed to do, Mr. Jackson requesting that the child's father make 
no provision for it, pledging to provide by will for it himself, to 
take all legal steps necessary to confirm the adoption — to have its 
name changed by act of Legislature, etc. All these promises were 
fulfilled to the letter. The entrance of the little child into the 
Jackson home as namesake and son and heir, was a joyful event. 
Old Aunt Hannah, its appointed nurse, tells to this day about 
bringing it through the woods, in her arms, to the Hermitage, and, 
being tired, of laying it on a stump, " like the babes in the woods," 
that she might rest. 

This child was the only one of the flock of children who were 



352 JJH'- not SKIIOl.iy OF AXDNKW JACKSOX. 

from time to time domiciled under the Jackson roof, that addressed 
Mr. and Mrs. Jackson as "father" and " mother," and received the 
title of son. (ieneral Jackson once said to a friend that " Andrew- 
had been nursed on the bosom of Mrs. Jackson. She felt all the 
tenderness of a mother, so that she parted with him even to t;o to 
Nashville to school with reluctance, and looked for the returning 
Saturday with more anxiety than the bov himself." 

"Aunt Jackson," as Mrs. Jackson was oftcnest called, loved 
children as much as her husband did, and always bestirred herself 
in a most motherly way whenever she was called upon to entertain 
another little visitor. Short, stout, kind-faced and jolly, with 
laughing black eyes, she was a marked contrast to Mr. Jackson 
who was tall, slender, graceful, very fair, and often made the im- 
pression of elegance by his courtly manner. She was noted for 
her cookery and housekeeping, and for her open-handed hospi- 
tality. She was a sunshiny woman. Andrew Jack.son loved his 
Tennessee home better than any other spot on earth, and when 
away was as homesick as a child ; in his own handwriting I have 
just read a confession of it. Inditing a letter to " My Love " (at a 
Virginia tavern where he was stopping over night on his stage- 
coach journey to Washington in 1S23, when he was again a Senator 
in Congress) after telling her how collections of people had halted 
the stage all along the roadsides to shake him by the hand — "the 
hero of New Orleans " — he says: 

"Were you with mc, I could l>e satisfied. Hut .should Trovidcncc once more permit us to 
meet, I am solemnly resolved, with the |iermi.s>ion of lle.iven, never to separate or be separated 
from you in this world." 

Another nephew, known now as " .Andrew Jackson Donelson." 




\NDRE\V JACKSON DONELSON, NEPHEW OF MRS. JACKSON. 
{Front the pninihig by Earl.) 



THE HOUSEHOLD OF ANDREW JACKSON. 355 

was much at the Hermitage. This other and older Andrew 
addressed Mr. and Mrs. Jackson as "uncle" and "aunt." He was 
the son of Mrs. Jackson's brother Samuel Donelson, who was 
killed by the Indians when the little Andrew was hardly six 
months old. His mother was the daughter of General Daniel 
Smith, U. S. Senator, and it is said that Mr. Jackson assisted at 
the runaway match, or, to use the exact words of one of the family, 
" helped Samuel Donelson steal his bride." Mr. Jackson wished 
to adopt this nephew also, but the widowed mother said " no." 

There was hardly a time when there were not other children 
at the house for longer or shorter stays, some for life-time sojourns. 
There was little that approached the grand Virginia st3'le of liv- 
ing; but the grounds at Mount Vernon and the halls at Monti- 
cello never rung with heartier laughter than did the Hermitage 
where little " Marse Andrew " held sway with his small companions, 
white and black. The ways of General Jackson and his wife were 
uniformly those of "pleasantness and peace," and all the children 
received the gentlest of treatment. To be sure the General was 
gruff and peremptory among men, and Mrs. Jackson, it is said, 
smoked a pipe, like many another lady of that time. But what 
did this matter to the children so long as Mr. Jackson was 
willing to sit wedged three in a rocking-chair, and Mrs. Jackson 
would sing and tell frontier stories at evening in the firelight? 
Mr. Parton gives the account of a traveler who arrived at the Her- 
mitage one wet chilly February evening: 

" I came upon General Jackson sitting alone before the fire, a lamb and a child between his 
knees. Seeing me, he called a servant to remove the two innocents to another room, and said that 
the child had cried because the lamb was out in the cold and begged him to bring it in, which he 
had done to please the child." 



356 J'ill- /fOL'S/:j/0/ /) 01 .tXDU/U/.ICKSOX. 

A member of the family said lately that there were possibly 
tifty children, white and black, in the family and about the neigh- 
borhood, named " Andrew " or " Rachel," and to each of these the 
Cieneral gave a gift t)r a remembrance in some way, and liked them 
all. He gave away dozens of Hibles and silver cups to namesakes; 
and on one of his trips from the 1 lermilage to the capital he dis- 
tributed a hundred and fifty silver half-dollars to mothers as they 
brought little " Andrews " or "Rachels" to him along the route. 
To each he made a little speech, saying " The half-dollar will serve 
the children to cut their teeth on now, but when they are older 
tell them it is the eagle of their country and teach them to love 
and protect it!" It is, perhaps, not a strange fact that when chil- 
dren went to the 1 lermitage to visit they were often called 
"Andrew" and "Rachel," although their names at home were 
entirely different. 

One child came into the Hermitage to live by a very romantic 
way. It was in 1S13, when desperate conflicts were going on 
between the Indians and settlers of Mississippi and Alabama, and 
General Jackson was leading the Tennesseean soldiers. After a 
victory over the Indians, the whites tried to succor the wounded 
red men and white alike — Jackson's biographer tells the tale : 

"On (lit bloody field of 'ralliiscl>atcln.s was found a slain mother siill cnihr.icing her living 
inf.inl. The child was brought into camp with the other prisoners, and Jackson, anxious to save 
it, endeavored to induce some of the Indian women to give it nourishment. ' No," said they, ' all 
his relations are dead, kill him loo ' This reply appealed to the heart of the General. lie caused 
the child to be taken to his own tent, where among the few remaining stores \v.is found a little 
brown sugar. This mingled with water, served to keep the child alive until it could be .sent to 
Huntsville, where it was nursed at Jackson's expense until the end of the campaign, and then 
taken to the Hermitage. 

" Mrs. Jackson received it cordially, and the b<iy (;rcw up in ihc family, treated by the General 
and his kind wife as a son, and a favorite, l.incoyer was the name given him by the General, lie 



THE HOUSEHOLD OF ANDREW JACKSON. 357 

grew to be a finely-formed and roljust youth, and received the education usually given to the 
planters' sons in the neighborhood. Vet it appears he remained an Indian to the last, delighting 
to roam the fields and woods, and decorating his hair and clothes with gay feathers, and given to 
strong yearnings for his native wilds. At the proper age, the General wishing to complete his 
good work by giving him the means of independence, took him among the shops of Nashville and 
asked him to choose the trade he would learn. He chose the very business at which Jackson 
himself had tried his youthful hand — harness-making. 

"The apprentice now spent the working days in the shop at Nashville, going to the Hermi- 
tage on .Sunday evenings, and returning on Monday morning, generally riding one of the General's 
horses. The work did not agree with him and he came home sick to the Hermitage to leave it no 
more. His disease proved to be consumption. He was nursed with care and solicitude by good 
Aunt Rachel, but he sank rapidly and died before he had reached his seventeenth year. The Gen- 
eral sincerely mourned his loss and often spoke of Lincoyer as a parent speaks of a child. 

" A lady of Nashville tells me that when as a little girl she used to visit the Hermitage with 
her parents, this Indian boy was her terror; it was his delight to spring upon the other children 
from small ambushes about the house and frighten them with loud yells and horrible grimaces." 

When little Andrew was in his creeping, crowing, prattling 
clays, his father was much away from home, and often in places 
and scenes to cause Mrs. Jackson to lie awake through long mid- 
nights. Whenever Tennesseeans were called upon to fight it was 
naturally Andrew Jackson who led them. He had been made 
Major-General by the National Government, and when the war 
with the Creek Indians ended it was followed by the British inva- 
sion of the Southwest and General Jackson was put in command 
of our troops and made us a brilliant and decisive victory at New 
Orleans. Soon after that event Mrs. Jackson and little Andrew 
and his cousin went down to pay the victorious commander a visit. 
They naturally were the recipients of many novel attentions. 
Little Andrew, shy and reticent, saw a great deal that was strange 
and bewildering, and all his life he remembered the sights and 
sounds of the gay military city. 

Says the biographer: 



358 t^ll- IIOI SI.IIOI.D 01- AXDHl.W JACKSOX. 

" l.illle AikIicw was a |>ct at the (|iiailers. Tlic Cicncral could deny him iiothinK and spent 
every leisure moment in playing with him, often holding him in his arms while he transacted busi- 
ness. One evening, a lady informs me, some companies of soldiers halted beneath the windows 
of the headquarters and the attending crowd began to cheer the (leneral and call for his appear- 
ance — a common occurrence in those days. The little boy who w;is asleep in an adjoining room 
was awakened by llie noise and began to cry. The General had risen from his chair and was going 
to the window to present himself to the clamoring crowd, when he heard the cry of the child. lie 
paused in the middle of the room in doubt for a moment which call to first obey — the boy's or the 
citizen's. The doubt was soon solved, however, lie ran to the bedside of his son, caught him in 
his arms, hushed his cries and carried him (in his night-gown) to the window where he bowed to 
the people, and at the same time amused the child with the scenes in the street." / 

Is not that a charming picture of the fierce fighter.' 
Rather more than five yeans later, Cieneral Jackson was 
appointed Governor of Florida, and they went to that land of 
flowers. The family met with demonstrations along the way, and 
were given handsome quarters as at New Orleans. Little Andrew, 
as became an American, felt some interest in the formal taking 
possession of the Governors house, and in witnessing the lowering 
of the Spani>h flag; but the fruit and fiowers and sea breeze did 
not wean him from the Hermitage, and he begged to go back, and 
did so, leaving father, mother and his cousin Andrew, and flying 
to his uncle John I^onelson's family with the greatest glee ; with 
them he staid until the General's resignation and return. This 
liability to homesickness was a trait; he had a most sensitive 
attachment to his birthplace. 

His cousin, .Andrew Donelson, was of sturdier build and 
tougher fiber. He was of the merry, whistling sort, always up and 
off to school early — two miles distant. ihere was a flock of 
children to go from the Hermitage neighborhood — notably ( in 
.Andrew's eyes) his pretty cousin Emily. One spring morning as 
the whole bevy were on the way they came to a roaring little creek 



THE HOUSEHOLD OF ANDREW JACKSOiX. 



359 






2.2. -^^5'.^-- 



j/i-.^ 



-<-<f^^^ 


















;6o 



TJU-. IIOL SKUOI.J) Ol A.\DJ<J-.\V JACKSON. 







-^\ 




^Pd«^-c-fc 







»V. ^.^*^, ^rf-' 



i>^ 



Sl 



V v^ 






KACSIMII.K AUTfH-.R.M'l! I.KITtK IIY rRESIIlFNT JACKSON 
(RrdMtd im lilt.) 



THE HOUSEHOLD OE ANDREW JACKSON. .(^^ 

which only existed in wet weather, and there was much ado amono- 
them as to the girls getting across. After some consultation it 
was concluded that Andrew could wade and carry his pretty little 
cousin, and this he did. He long afterwards said that as he held 
the delicate little creature in his arms he realized that he was in 
love with her, and determined to marry her some day. The resolve 
made a plucky man of him. As soon as his school days were fin- 
ished, he got an entrance into West Point, graduating in 1820, 
standing second in a class of thirty. He came home, a real lieu- 
tenant, to find his cousin Emily with a train of admirers, but plainly 
proud of his attentions. 

The General was much gratified by Lieutenant Donelson's 
record at West Point, and with his development in character. 
Writing to a friend, he says: 

" Lieutenant Donelson is young, but I trust you will find him modest and unassuming; pos- 
sessing as good an education as any of his age in America, of good moral habits and entirely clear 
of all the dissipation too common to the youth of the Modern Day." 

That he had watched over and brought up this creditable young- 
nephew and now saw him formed and completed upon a good mili- 
tary model, was a daily satisfaction to the old fighter, and their 
soldiering ideas and tastes drew them more and more closely to- 
gether. When in 182 1 General Jackson was appointed Governor 
of Florida, Lieutenant Donelson was on his staff; and it may be 
taken for granted that the young West Pointer got far more enjoy- 
ment than his twelve-year-old cousin in the stormy encounters with 
the stubborn Spanish ofificials whom they found remaining in 
Florida. One of the Spaniards describes " the Governor, Don 
Andrew Jackson," as conducting an interview "with turbulent and 



362 nil-' HOlSKnOlJ-) OF .INJyKKW JACKSO.y. 

violent actions, with disjointed reasoninj^s, blows on the table, his 
mouth foaming, and possessed with the furies." This was in the 
Monroe administration; and Mr. Secretary of State, John Quincv 
.Adams, was wont to say (so says .Mr. Farton) that he used to dread 
the arrival of a mail from Florida, not knowing what General Jack 
son might do next, yet knowing well that whatever it was, " the 
Secretary of State was the individual who would have to explain it 
away to the Spanish Government." The truth is that .Andrew 
Jackson had an intense aversion to the presence upon our conti- 
nent of either British or S])anish governing officials or of any 
other nation whatsoever. 

1 le presently tlirew up his Governorship and followed his little 
son .Andrew home to the Hermitage, meaning to stay there the rest 
of his life with his beloved Rachel and his child. He was fifty-four 
and considered himself retired from public service and entitled to 
enjoy his home. 

There was much business of one sort and another connected 
with the General's affairs, jirivate and public, and Lieutenant Don- 
elson resigned his commission to remain with his uncle, acting as 
his secretary, and they spent their lives together for the most part 
thereafter. Between the return from l-'Iorida and the election of 
the General as United States Senator, he married his cousin limiK, 
then a lovely girl of sixteen, and together they accompanied the 
General to Washington. Thereafter the letters (jf Jackson abound 
with references to " the Major," as young Donelson was popularly 
called. 

It has been said that the General intended to divide his fortune 
between .Andrew and the Major. However, the tenderness of the 
General's soul was bound up in the delicate child adopted in baby- 




MRS. ANDREW JACKSON DONEI.SON (EMILY DUNKLSON.) 
{From the painting by Earl.) 



THE HOUSEHOLD OF ANDREW JACKSON. 365 

hood; and when some years after Andrew met with great financial 
losses, he changed his plans and made his son his heir, exclusively, 
giving only a few keepsakes to other members of the family. 

At the close of the John Onincy Adams administration General 
Jackson was elected President after a campaign exceedingly excit- 
ing and most exceedingly bitter. It is next to impossible to defeat 
a military hero in an election, and General Jackson was an idol with 
the people at large. He had come very near to election by vote 
of the Senate in 1S24 instead of John Ouincy Adams; and the 
campaign which resulted in his elevation raged all through the 
last three years of the Adams presidency. The General had been 
publicly feted and honored whenever and wherever an occasion 
offered. His popular sobriquet was " Old Hickory," and tall 
hickory poles were set up in his honor in every town of the Union. 
A hardy fighter, a brilliant commanding oilficer, a victorious gen- 
eral, he was just the figure to attract and hold the attention of the 
country at that period. Hitherto statesmen alone had been called 
to the Presidential chair; but the people never would have been 
satisfied if they had not placed Andrew Jackson in the White 
House. 

When the news of the election reached the Hermitage Mrs. 
Jackson said : 

" Well, for Mr. Jackson's sake, I'm glad; for my own part I 
never wished it." 

The ladies of Tennessee, however, loving Mrs. Jackson for her 
goodness, were preparing to send her to the White House, as a 
family sends out its daughter a bride — with the most magnificent 
wardrobe that could be fashioned, and the people of the region 
were about to celebrate the election with a splendid banquet to the 



366 THE iiOLSKJioi.n or a.xdkkw jacksox. 

Picsidcnt-clcct ; but on the evening before the fete the mistress 
of the Hermitage, never to make home for her husband at the 
White House, died in the arms of her faithful eolored servant. 
Hannah ; and the home-loving General proceeded to his place at 
the head of the nation, a lonely and broken-hearted old man. 

Two aged servants who 
remember Mrs. Jackson 
are still living; Uncle Al- 
fred whose Uncle George 
was General Jackson's 
body servant, and Aunt 
Hannah, Mrs. Jackson's 
favorite attendant. A re- 
cent letter from the Her- 
mitage reports a conver- 
sation verbatim with tiie 
old negro : 

" I luUi him simply that a lady ' up 
N'orth ' wished to hear something aliout 
the ' good Rachel,' her home life with 
the General, her disposition and char- 
acter. 

'•'Wall, Miss Amy,' said he, 
throwing back his gri/zlcd old head 
■i.D iiWNMi" \\n iiiR si)\ ^"'' curling his left arm around bc- 

(From fh.'ic:irr.ifh H s^hryer^ \\mA his back, ' you kin tell her 

that ole Missus wa-s a kind and 
good missus, gcn'rus to the poor — black and white — 'tentive to her pr'ars and minded her Bible' 
" Vrs ; but. Uncle Alfred, how did she and the General pass their time together here at 
home ? 

" ' W'a'all, she stayed in the house mostly, minding the serv.ints, sometimes going into the gar- 
den wid thcni — showing them — and sometimes taking the tools herself — working among the 
flowers. In the ebcnings the General would often ride over the "garden fields " and she would walk 




THE HOUSEHOLD OF ANDREW JACKSON. 367 

out beside him, not ride, while they looked over the place together; other times thev would sit 

together at home and she would sing old songs — she was a great singer, ma'am, bin he he 

couldn't sing — much — but liked to hear her. I kin 'member how she used to take nie and the 

Indian boy Lincoyer, with her to the p'oh white folks who lived anywhar near here she riding 

her horse " old Buck " — and we took the mutton or beef while she would stop here and dar cutting 
off parts of the meat for this fam'bly or that, until it was all giben out to them ; she was sure enuff 
gen'rus.' 

" Did she work herself. Uncle Alfred ? 

"' Work.' she did'n' work herself — she had 'nuff servants to do dat. She only went round 
bout de house looking after them as they spun or wove, or cooked, or made candles or churned 
down at the spring house.' 

"Tell me about that old house. Uncle Alfred ; why was it built that way.' 

" ' Why missus, 'cause she wanted de garret ob it for her wool, the rafters for her cured meat, 
and she had all the milk and butter and cheese kept in the running water below — 'deed she sot a 
heap on dat old spring house.' 

" How about her disposition, Uncle Alfred .' 

'" Wa'al, she was like all oder folks,' said the loyal old fellow, 'fretful sometimes, but always 
ready to talk and laugh and " carry on," all de same as eber, afterwards.'" 

The following letter of " recollections " was written for Aunt 
Hannah by her granddaughter. 

Nashville. Tenn., Oct. 12, 1SS9. 
Mrs. Jackson : 

I have heard that some gives my old mistress (M''s. Rachel Jackson) a mean name, but I write 
this to let j-ou, and all who care to know, that there was never a better woman lived than her. I 
have a right to know for she raised me from a child of three years old. Ah, well can I remember 
her kindness to me and all her slaves and neighbors. When I was small she used to make me sit 
down by her side and pin my dress to hers and in the kindest way teach me to sew and knit. 
Whenever she caught me in a fault she would whip me, and when I cried she would cry too. I 
slept in the bed at her and old Marster's feet until I was seven or eight years old, and whenever they 
left home they always carried me, and never left me to the care of the overseer and servants. To 
the poor she was always a kind benefactress. Many a side of meat, peck of meal, sugar, flour and 
coffee have she gave to the poor, and if one of her slaves was sick, she had a doctor called in right 
away, and they was fed from her table until they was well, and the overseer dare not send them to 
the field until she thought that they was well enough to go. Every day she would have a large 
tray filled with molasses and fatty bread and sat down in the kitchen and all the little negroes 
called up to eat, because they liked fatty bread and molasses, and she seemed to enjoy seeing them 



,68 'i'ln- iiocsHiroi.n oi a.xdkewjacksox. 

eat it. In my iniapin.iu.iii it -ctiii .i> il 1 < .in mi- her and old marster, riding <>ul m sec ihc p'mt 
that lived anvwiicrc near and giving them something. She was even kind and good tu all duml> 
creatures, and never allowed anyone to mistreat them ; she would not even allow a bird'.s nest to 
be robbed, or the birds to be killed if she knew it. Kvery morning she would walk out among her 
flowers and trim and water them herself. If you hear any one say she was mean tell them old 
hannah fackson savs they are liars, for a better, kinder and nobler christian never lived. When 
she died it seemed as if I had lost my mother, and soon 1 will go and meet her and old marstcr 
around the throne of God, where we will never be parted no more. 

A!;€<)%. ULI) n.\.S'NAII Jacksii.n. 

There is another old slave still living in the vicinity — " Mat 
Donelson " — who belonged to the Donelson family ; Mat is eighty- 
four years old. but has a good memory, and recalls vividly 
the scene at the Hermitage upon General Lafayette's reception, 
the barbecue given by General Jackson that day, the long tables 
filling the grounds behind the mansion, the huge piles of provisions, 
the multitude of servants, the crowds of visiting strangers and 
neighbors, the entertainment in the evening when the Cieneral had 
a stand built of tables and boxes as high as the doors, in the 
double parlors for the " head fiddler " and his daughter who fur- 
nished the music for the dancers, and of General Lafayette walk- 
ing around leaning on General Jackson's arm. mingling with the 
company, conversing with the ]5eople ]M-esent, and closely watching 
every thing. 

In her Souvenirs of My Tiiiic, Mrs I'Vc'inont, whose family 
knew the Jacksons well, writing of the President and his wife, 
speaks warmly of Mrs. Jackson : 

" Theirs h.td been .in unusually harmonious life. Like many a woman ' with nothing remark- 
able in her,' she had the enviable gift of making life sweet and reposing to all about her — she was 
eminently a 'gentle woman.' 

"She h.id lived always among |>coplc who knew her and loved her and in the profound retire- 
ment of Southern country life. Kxcept the one cpisiidi- of a cruel husband, from whom she had 



THE HOUSEHOLD OF ANDREW JACKSON. 369 

been divorced young, all her days had been peace and honor. Into this seclusion and peace came 
the concentrated tire of one of the most savage of our political campaigns, the most venomous part 
being aimed at Mrs. Jackson herself. 

" She was glad to die, she said : the General would miss her, but if she had lived she might be 
in the way of his new life — 'she could not share it after those cruel things said against her.' 

" It was Desdemona's piteous ' Am I that thing ! ' 

" We women will not feel General Jackson the less a good man that in dying he answered his 
clergyman — yes, that he was ready, that he asked forgiveness as he forgave all — 'All except 
those who slandered my Rachel to death.'" 



370 



THE JlOLSl.HOLD OF AyDRl.W JACKSON. 



(!\ 




'^rr7'-rr'>:s 



Sll.\ KK ( IIKIM I NlNi 



■IT. 



chapti:k hi. 



IN nil: wniTi-; iiousk. 



T 



(rrrsfHtfil tt' Miistfr Antimv {Coiontl 
Aiuimv Jtukion) hy his god/tither, 
Martin I'ltn BiireM, Sfcrttaty of 
Statr.^ 



\\\\ heart of an old figlitcr like Gen- 
eral Jackson could not but feel 
keenly the joy of victorious battle at his 
election to the Presidency, and he went 
on to Washington with the iron deter- 
mination not only to represent the peo- 
ple as their ruler, but to govern them as 
their ruler. Still his great personal 
gladness in life was over. Recently to 
some visitors to the tomb at the Her- 
mitage, who were asking about the ven- 
erable willows there, old Alfred gave his 
own recollections of the mornine when 



President Jackson set out for Washington : 

" ' Dcsc yere willows ivuz planted by General Jackson. Olc Mis' she jis done been buried, an' 
de trunks was all packed for to go to Washington, and General Jackson he went right down here 
an' cut four switches jist 'bout so long,' measuring from his elbow down, 'an' he come down here 
an' he tuk his knife an' made a hole an' stuck one dar, .in' one dar, an' one dar, an' one dar,' indi- 
cating the four corners around the tomb, ' an' they growed every one of dem ; an' dcse dey now. 
Dat one obcr dar was killed by lightnin'. Den General Jackson went back to the house to git in 
his carriage, en he tuk off his hat to de house jis like it was a lady, an' he drove ofT.'" 



Major Donclson and his wife accompanied their uncle to 
Washiniiton in order to make the White House home-like. A 




MRS. ANIiUKW JACKSU.V (SARAII YoKKK.) 
(From the f,tiutiug l<y Earl.) 



THE HOUSEHOLD OF ANDREW JACKSOX. 373 

lady, who as a child was familiarly at the Executive Mansion during 
the Jackson Presidency, says that Mrs. Donelson was strikingly 
beautiful ; tall, slender, with almost dazzling complexion, having 
bright red cheeks, and with very regular features, light hair, dark 
brown eyes and a most graceful manner. All who remember her 
agree that she did tlie honors of the White House perfectly, and 
was really one of the prettiest women that have occupied that po- 
sition, and she also has the reputation of having used the very best 
taste in dress. Three of her four children were born in the White 
House: Mrs. Mary Emily Wilcox, of Washington, Mrs. Rachel 
Jackson Eckford who died in Texas in iS85,and John S. Donelson 
killed at the battle of Chickamauga. 

Andrew, the adopted son, then twenty years old, meantime 
during his frequent visits to Philadelphia, had met and fallen in 
love with one of "the three pretty Miss Yorkes," and soon after 
the inauguration the pair were wedded, and came to Washington. 
The fame of her beauty, elegance and sweet nature had preceded 
the bride. General Jackson's warm heart had already stirred with 
a father's tenderness toward her. By Colonel Earl who attended 
the wedding he had sent her a beautiful ring of pearls containing 
his hair within, to be delivered to her with an affectionate mes- 
sage. As the party drew near the White House General Jackson 
was standing out to receive the bride as she alighted from the 
carriage and Andrew said, " Look, Sarah, at the group in front 
there and see if you can distinguish father." \ 

She replied at once, " Oh ! there he is, like Saul among \\\^ 
brethren, head and shoulders above them all." 

The President greeted her warmly, kissing her, calling her 
" daughter," and drawinc; her arm within his own conducted her 



374 



Till: iioi sj:/ioi.j> oj- .i.\/)A'/-:ir j.ica.som 



in and holdiiii; her hand in his seated her by his side, saying he 
must claim her first fur a little while. I'Vom that time until 
she stood bv him in death siie filled the daughter's place in his 
heart. 

All accounts agree as to the personal beauty and character of 




TlIK HKRMIIAC.K., lluMK HI- (,KN1K^ 



Mrs. Sarah Jackson. Her nephew, Mr. .\lfred Wethcrill, says 
of her: 



" Mrs. Jackson was a\vom.-iii of tiiu- ait;iiiiiiiLnts, great dignilv, alt.iluliiv, lascinating manners, 
and a rare bc.iuty, as I remember her myself, and as admitted by all who have known her. In 
youth, long Iwfore any thought was entertained of her ever being an inmate of the White House, 
she was surrounded by a host of friends and admirers, when she and her two sisters were known 
in the city of rhiladclphia as the M/w/r.//!- ,1//// iWivs. My own mother was always considered 
a beautiful woman by those who saw her, but Mrs. Jackson w.is generally thought to be the hand- 
somest of the trio." 



THE HOUSEHOLD OF ANDREW JACKSON. -,~r 

0/5 

Says another Philadelphian : 

" I cannot express the admiration I felt for her as a child. ... I thought her the most 
beautiful being I ever beheld, and was accustomed to hear older persons say that the charms of her 
heart and character corresponded with her lovely appearance. We who were children when she 
left Philadelphia have never forgotten her." 

Her complexion was faultless. She had black eyes and hair. 
Her features were regular. She was of medium height, with per- 
fect elegance of figure and manner ; to quote General Jackson's 
own words of her, " There was no comparison whatever between 
her and any other woman I ever met." 

The two young matrons, Mrs. Donelson and Mrs. Jackson, 
seemed to have divided between them the care of the President, 
one assuming more particularly the charge of the home in Wash- 
ington, the other in Tennessee, though Mrs. Jackson usually spent 
the winters at the White House. The President was always im- 
patient for her return, and scarcely a day of her absence passed on 
which he did not write to her. 

At the Hermitage the most perfect care was extended over 
General Jackson's interests, and the hosts of visitors were enter- 
tained with unfailing courtesy. The housekeejoing of the Hermit- 
age is remembered for its exquisiteness. One visitor, a child then, 
says she remembers vividly how especially dainty was everything 
in the General's bedroom ; the pillow-cases which Sarah herself 
embroidered for him, and which were always perfectly laundered, 
seemed to have particularly impressed her. 

When the two families with their children were together at the 
White House there was such frolicking there as has never been 
known before or since ; the common desire was to create sunshine 
for the President, for his public life was most stormy and trying. 



376 



THE nOl SEHOII) OF AXDh'J.l'/.lCKSOX. 



He seemed to forget the trial and battle whenever he could be alone" 
with his household. One of these children, who now lives in W'ash- 
ington, tells me that the General used to linger about until he was 
sure that the nurse was giving the little folk their baths; then he 
would dart into the room and sprinkle them over with water, jire- 

tending to whip tliLiii 
with the wash-cloth, and 
laugh and chuckle when 
any of them were quick 
enough to return his 
splashing. At the table 
ho helped the little ones 
before the ciders, for he 
^ said they were the hun- 

L> gricst and had not the 

BB|^ >^ patience to wail. 

^^H I This delightful grand- 

^^^L father had two coaches; 

^^^^^ ^MMJMJ ti-,^, ^^y^^^ pictured here is 

I^^^F^' nl^^^^l preserved at the Hermit- 

age. The wood used in 
its construction was orig- 
inally a portion of the 
old ship Coiisii/uiioti, 
known in the navv of 
the War of 1S12 as O/d 
Ironsides ; from the tim- 
bers the Democrats of New York City made the coach and pre- 
sented it to General Jackson. It was this carriage which he used 




RXaiKI. JACKSON (AFTERWARD MRS. JOHN LAWRENCE), 
r.KAN'lHHII |) 1)1- i.lN. JACKSON. ANU Ills WMK'- 
NAMflSAKK; IlMT.HTKR OF THE AIX)ITtU SON, 
ANDREW JACKSON. 

{Frow thr ^tiHting fy Earl.) 



THE HOUSEHOLD OF ANDREW JACKSON. 



577 



during his later 3'ears because it was low and he could step in and 
out of it with ease. The one generally taken out in Washington was 
of Philadelphia make. The builders sent two, one lined with ])lue 
uncut velvet, and the other 
with red ; the President was 
to make his choice. Both 
he and his daughter Sarah 
decided on the red one ; 
and this beautiful coach, 
gayly lined, and drawn by 
four white horses (he kept 
white horses because he 
could be sure from their 
appearance whether they 
were well taken care of or 
not), had oftentimes both 
seats filled with little peo- 
ple whose faces showed 
their happiness at being- 
allowed to take their out- 
ing with the old General. 
I saw the other day, at 
a house in Washington, some queer little Jackson keepsakes ; 
one was a bead watch-chain woven of blue beads with here and 
there a red rose, and in the center a motto, "Forget-me-not!'' 
Although this was the General's chain he loaned it to these 
little ones and with it they " played horse," capering around the 
White House and running away and causing wrecked carriages as 
often as they liked. Another was a card-case; this, too, although 




ANDREW JACKSON, JR. 
fiion portrait to little Rachel JacksotCst pai7tied at 
■ I'y Earl : both Itang on the tvalls q/ the GcueraVs 



ijjS THE noi si.iioi.n of a.m^ki-w jacksox. 

it was one of Aunt Jackson's, shows the wear of little people, 
for with it they used to play at visiting; and Mrs. Wilcox, one of 
those little visitors (Mary Donelson then), says that they took the 
names of the most distinguished women and tried to talk and 
act like them. I'^rom the condition the case is in now, it would 
seem that they must have forgotten the roles they had assumed 
and returned to their usual romping. 

It hardly will be possible for readers to appreciate how con- 
stantlv these little people were in the mind of General Jackson or 
how important he thought all tiieir acts. When men were laying 
the corner-stone of the new Treasury Building and sent to him for 
something important to deposit therein, he gave them a copy of 
the Constitution and a lock of little Mary's sunny hair, which he 
said was precious. From a number of authorities it is learned that 
when the little Jackson Rachel, now Mrs. Lawrence, was restless 
at night, the President of the United States would rise, partially 
dress himself, put the baby in the carriage and trundle her around 
the great Kast Room until she was quieted. To any remonstrance 
fi*om the family he would say, " Rachel likes it and so do I. " 

In 1837 some one in New York conveyed to General Jackson 
" with banners and bands of music," a huge cheese which weighed 
fourteen hundred pounds, and this was placed in the White House 
and cut and given away in pieces to a great number of people who 
Hocked to see and taste of this monstrosity. Of course the small 
folk of the President's House were interested in the novel excite- 
ment, and little Rachel was lifted up on a table by her nurse that 
she might see and also be one of the crowd. She wore that day a 
pink challie with a narrow scarf of the same color bordered all 
around with eider down, and undoubtedlv, as the President's grand- 



THE HOUSEHOLD OF ANDREW JACKSON. 



379 



daughter, was an object of observation although unconscious of it, 
and she was greatly discomfited by men plucking the down from 
her scarf ; but when she saw them blow it up in the air and then 
watched it come down again 
on people and cheese, she 
was delighted and made 
no remonstrance. 

The christening of little 
Andrew Jackson, Jr., and 
the Donelson children, was 
made a great affair. Both 
Houses with the Diplomatic 
corps were invited ; when 
the ceremony was over, 
refreshments were served, 
and the General did not 
tire talking of the charm- 
ing behavior of the little 
ones. Mary, Rachel and 
John were the Donelson 
children who were chris- 
tened at the White House. 
The older son Andrew, was born in Tennessee; he was never 
married, but died in his young manhood. Of the Jackson chil- 
dren, the son Andrew was the only one ba])tized in Washington. 
The little Rachel was christened in Philadelphia, Samuel and 
Robert in the quaint tiny Hermitage church which the General 
built for his wife; Samuel, Robert, and Thomas who died the 
day of his birth, lie buried in the Hermitage garden. 




RACHEL DONELSON (AFTERWARD MRS. ECKFOKD) ; 

DAUGHTER OF ANDREW JACKSON DONELSON. 

(From iJtf /ill I tit i 11,^ hy Earl.') 



3So 



nil: iiorsijioi.n oi axdnkujacksox. 



When the warm weather came on, each year, the President 
used tt) leave the White Mouse and go to Fortress Monroe or 
what was then called the Rij) Raps, and the troop of children went 
with him. Said Mr. I-rank V. Blair writint; at that place: 



'•I 

Jackson. 










:vi'r uitiiL-sscH in .iiiy individual moru tender affection or sympathy than in General 
lie had his family at the Kip Raps and his courtesy and kindness and luve for these 
strangers to his bluod n.is felt by nic as a rebuke to 
my colder nature and less ardent .sympathies with 
our children. He has a little granddniighler, Kachel 
[ihc little Jackson Kachel ]. a beautiful child about 
ten months old, named for his wife, which he takes 
to his bosom whenever brought within his reach. I 
never saw this little bantling in his presence that his 
eye did not brighten and his afTections rise . . . 
lie said ^he was the solace of his waning life.'" 



It is said of the fiery old Presi- 
dent by the same gentle- 
man that he had the most 
])atient, bland and sooth- 
ing mood of caressing 
these little ]3eople into 
good humor and good 
behavior. 1 le was to be 
seen many a time merrily 
chasing them on the lawn 
back of the White House, 
and in the grass about the 
1 lermitage, and wlien he 
caught them he would smother them with caresses. The chil- 
dren, when all at the Hermitage, almost quarreled as to who 



A 




^wrj(jL>*'' 



SOMF WIIITK llOirSK JACKSON REMCS. 
Kf H />imei%wH f/ Mri. Mary li'iicox, n^ Af.try DoMfhoM.) 



THE HOUSEHOLD OF ANDREW JACKSON. 38 1 

should light his pipe ; but he usually managed that to their satis- 
faction, and then ran after June bugs with them in the twilight or 
played "mumble-the-peg " when it was too warm to caper about. 
When riding around the plantation on his old gray war-horse, " Sam 
Patch," to oversee the hands at work or to inspect the stock, he 
would take some one of the children with him ; when the youngest, 
little Rachel, was too tiny to ride behind him he had a little 
cushion made for the front part of the saddle and there, perched 
up before him, she galloped around the field in the greatest 
state of delight. 

It was to the same petted grandchild that he gave the minia- 
ture likeness of his wife only a few days before he died. This he 
had worn in his breast pocket for years. It was attached to a flat 
guard-chain woven with black and gilt beads. Every night before 
he retired he j^laced his Bible, prayer-book and hymn-book on his 
table and set the likeness with the face towards his bed. This 
fact together with the knowledge that every day at twilight, when 
at the Hermitage, he went by himself to her grave, made the 
grandchildren constantly think and talk about Mrs. Jackson, so 
that she was a dear grandmother in the thoughts of them all. He 
used to say of the little ones when but babies that if spared to 
hear them lisp their grandmother's name he should be satisfied. 

General Jackson's care followed these children everywhere, 
constantly, all his life, although not a drop of his blood flowed in 
their veins. His letters and grandfatherly gifts reached them at 
the Hermitage, at school, on distant visits; remembering probably 
his own usual ragged plight as a boy and his indifference to 
school-books, he wrote a good many anxious admonitions, and sent 
many a suit of clothes. 



2S2 TllK llOl SHiroi.li OF A.XnRKUJACKSO.y. 

In iSjt), ju^t as the White House family were beginning to 
look forward to the return to Tennessee, Mrs. Donelson died at 
Tulii) drove. Major Donelson's paternal estate adjoining the Her- 
mitage, whither she had gone for rest and quiet and medical care ; 
the social life of the Jackson administration had been from first to 
last of an unusually wearing and trying character, especially at 
the White House itself. Her children remember their sweet 
mother with tenderness, and with pride, too, that for so many vears 
she helped make the sunshine in tlie lonely old President's har- 
assed life. 

Major Donelson married again; the second wife was ICmily's 
niece, the widow of Louis Randolph, Martha Jefferson's son. At 
the time of the Civil War, Major Donelson was offered a place in 
Lincoln's cabinet ; he had run for Vice-President with Fillmore 
against Huchanan and Hrecken ridge ; also he had been at one 
time American Minister to Prussia. He remained in possession 
of a splendid maturity of physical strength almost up to the time 
of his death, in iSyi, never having used spectacles or been in a 
dentist's chair. 

Of Major Donelson's children two only arc living. The young- 
est son, the only male representative of the family, W. A. Donel- 
son, lives on the old estate near the Hermitage, " inherited from 
one Donelson to another for two hundred vears." Mrs. Donel- 
son has made the restoration and preservation of the little 1 ler- 
mitage church her especial work and care; this is the church which 
was erected by General Jackson in 1.S23 to gratify his wife. 

The living daughter, Mary Donelson (Mrs. Wilco.x) resides in 
Washington — she, a lock of whose hair was deposited in the cor- 
ner-stone of the Treasury Huilding. Her husband, who died in 




GENERAL JACKS' >N IN OLD AGE. 
{,T/ie last J>orlrait ; /•aiiited by C. P. A. Heaty at the HeriiiHagc; 



THE HOUSEHOLD OF A.VDRE IV JACKSON-. 



585 



1S65, was a Member from Mississippi in tlie Thirty-second Con- 
gress, and elected to the Thirty-fourth from Texas ; he was also a 
Member of the Confederate Congress. This little White House 
girl, a woman now, takes care of herself by Government employ- 
ment, and laughs at the idea 
that tlie life of a Government 
clerk is a hard one, or that 
Presidential families should 
expect to be supported when 
they meet with adversity. 
She remembers distinctly 
her life in the White House, 
and laughs as she recalls 
that when given the minia- 
ture of the General to play 

with she chipped out a piece 

of it with her first tooth, and 

that instead of being pun- 
ished the President said, 

" She can cut her own way 

through this world." Her 

hair is tinged slightly with 

gray which dulls the Titian 

tint of youth, but it is easy 

to see from her lively manner that she must have enjoyed the 

early days of romping and that if General Jackson caught her in 

their chases he must have exerted himself to do it. 

Andrew Jackson, the adopted son of the President, of whom 

we have had but glimpses, always shunned publicity, except where 




RACHEL, WIFE OF GENERAL JACKSON. 
'•ro»i a -water-color painting on ivory, by J. C. Strode/: this is 
caseii in a gold locket, which Mr, Jackson.morc, attaclu'd to a 
ribbon made 0/ black beads, around his neck ; nmu o-Mtcd by 
Mrs. John Lavjrence.) 



386 '/'//''• JIOLSKHOJD Ol AXnkKlV JACKSO.W 

duty calUd liini. Ilu was devoted to botany and the jiractical 
study of nature. His dau!.;hter Racliel. now Mrs. John Lawrence, 
of Nashville, says that she has ridden whole days with her father 
tlirough the woods in quest of plants and herbs. He studied med- 
icine, and always attended the family and the negroes on the plan- 
tation, with his own hands concoctin;; salves and jiotions and 
brewint; tonics and strengthening drinks. He was a thoughtful 
reader of books in many directions, was especially interested in all 
kinds of mai hinery. and was a fine Latin and (ireek scholar. He 
enjoyed rural sports — hunting, fishing, skating, whatever permitted 
of solitude, exerci.se and meditation. He was uniformly cheerful, 
even during tiie latter years of liis life when an ordinary man would 
have been crushed by the fate that befell him — the loss of all his 
property through becoming security for other men in financial 
transactions. He even had to leave his home, the llermitage. 
The State became the purchaser, through the influence of Andrew 
Johnson, then (Governor. The family went South, but Sarah 
longed for the old home, and finally, as no disposition had been 
made of it, and it was suffering from lack of care, the family re- 
turned by solicitation from those in authority. They resided at 
the Hermitage unmolested, during the Civil War. Just at its close 
Mr. Jackson met his death by an accident. I le was but little 
known to the nation, and no doubt was sometimes underrated on 
account of his diffidence; but he was beloved by his friends. 

General Brinkerhoff. the tutor of the young folk at the Her- 
mitage, writes : " .\ndrew Jackson, junior, was a gentleman, every 
inch of him, but he fell upon troublesome times and like poor old 
Job he was be.set by calamities from everv cpiarter but, unlike Job, 
there was no restoration." 




ll.o.NKI. ANDRKW JACKSDN. TIIK IRKSKNT MAslKR i)J IIIK II t K M I I Ai.h^ 




MRS. JOHN I-AWRKNCI' 



(RACHKI. JACK~;ON, DAUGHTER 

ADOPtED SON.) 

{From li/c f-Iwtogr,if>h.) 



F GENERAL JACKS 



THE HOUSEHOLD OE ANDREW JACKSON. -,gi 

The quality of the man never failed to show in an emero-encv. 
One scene in his life described by a member of his family, will 
illustrate his true character so far as his determination and fear- 
lessness may be in question. In General Jackson's will, anion"- 
other bequests similar in character, leaving his gold-mounted sword 
to Major Donelson, is tlie legacy to his son Andrew of the oold 
snuff box, presented to him by the corporation of the city of New 
York; the will directed that his son should bestow this gold box 
upon the man most valiant in defense of his country, stipulatino- 
that he should be a native of New York. Finally, the time havino- 
arrived for the decision, and Mr. Jackson having listened to all the 
evidence offered by the friends of the various aspirants, he decided 
to present the box to General Ward B. Burnett. Whereupon all 
the disappointed candidates and their friends visited upon his head 
their wrath, appearing before the hotel in New York City where 
he was stopping in a tumultuous mob-like crowd. Whc.i Mr. 
Jackson saw their evident intention to intimidate him, he appeared 
before them alone, according to the newspaper reports of the scene, 
published at the time, and soon convinced them of his ability to. 
^Told his own against all odds ; the newspapers added that when 
aroused, Mr. Jackson was "all fire and tow," his eyes flashino-, and 
displaying such a degree of will power and moral courage as 
amazed and abashed the crowd. 

His wife, the beautiful Sarah so much beloved by the President, 
was living at the Hermitage when these biographies were begun, 
but died in 1SS7, at the age of eighty-one. I have before me a 
quaint manuscript memorial of this couple — the deed by which 
the husband conveys to his wife, " the said Sarah," and confirms, 
sells, aliens, demises and releases, all his right, title, interest and 



////■; ih)i siiioi n or .\\ni<i- w /.icawo.v. 



possession in "n.rlain nc^ri) slaves' which the venerable ex-Presi- 
dent had willed and bequeathed to her "as a dying memento;" 
these "chattels " are mostly ilescribed as "of a yellow complexion." 
Among them is tiie faithful venerable "Hannah" and her son, 
Old Alfred. 

As in the case of Major Donelson's family, two only of Andrew 

Jackson's children are liv- 
ing now, in uSgo. The 
daughter, Mrs. John Law- 
rence, the "little Rachel" 
so dear to the President, 
resides in Nashville, Tenn. 
She was married at the 
Hermitage, with an old- 
t i m*e e v e n i n g wedding. 
The grounds were brilliant 
with bonfires that blazed 
until after midnight, light- 
ing the guests away. The 
lovely bride with her spark- 
ling black eyes wore a 
gown of white satin, "with 
an entire real lace dress 
over it. and veil, and a 
necklace of pearls." The 
historic old mansion was 
gay with th)wersand music, 
and there was a great supper with large balls of quicksilver on 
each table that reflected all the scene. The confections piled in 




THE FOl'RTII ANDREW JACKSdN (SON OF COLONEL 
ANDRI-AV JACKSON.) 
(From li/f fholofrafh. ) 



THE HOUSEHOLD OE ANDREW JACKSON. 3^3 

pyramids were covered with webs of spun cand}-. After the ban- 
quet the servants entered bearing silver trays containing cards 
for the reception which was to take place the following week. 
Mrs. Lawrence's black eyes have grown still more beautiful with 
the lights and shadows of many years. She is a prominent 
charter member of the Ladies' Hermitage Association whose 
ofifice it is to restore and preserve the old estate and keejD it " for- 
ever in perpetual memory of the great hero. " 

The son, Colonel Andrew Jackson, is the present master of the 
Hermitage. He is a West Point man, and served in the Confed- 
erate Army, where his brother Samuel was killed together with 
three wards of his father's — the Adams boys reared at the Her- 
mitage. 

The Hermitage has now passed, as just stated, from the keep- 
ing of the State into the hands of The Ladies' Hermitage Associa- 
tion which proposes to perform for the Western Mecca the same 
ofifices as the Mount Vernon Association for Washington's home. 
The estate, as assigned to the Association, includes the house and 
tomb, with twenty-five surrounding acres. The intention is to 
beautify the grounds, to renovate the house and to purchase the 
valuable relics and furniture owned by Colonel Jackson. Quoting 
from the appeal to the public: 

"The Association is national in its character, as Andrew JacI<son was national in reputation. 
He belonged to the people, and to them the .Association now appeals for assistance in this great 
work. 

"The by-laws ask a membership fee of ^i.oo. By this means the Association hope to realize 
at least 8150,000, as it is the belief that there are fully that many citizens in the United States who 
would gladly give that sum to the restoration of Old Hickory's home. Contributions of anv sum 
from $I.oo or less, to any great sum a munificent benefactor may be willing to give, are solicited. 
Any contribution may be sent to the Treasurer, I,. F. Benson, Nashville, Tenn., and will be re- 



394 



rill: J/iU SEJIO/J) OF A.yDAKir /.ICKSOX 



cciptcd for liv luni, ;iiui piaiud ti) tlic credit of the A»iiLi.iliim. U c ii..|.l- m.,! im^ apixal will 
strike the key iioic of patriotisni, and that in a very few years the hi>nic uf Andrew Jacksun, the 
l)caiitiful lierniltagc, will be the Mecca ul all tnie patriiii!> in the United States, and of historic 
interest to the louring stranger." 

TIk. Hermitage has many visitors. It is sinj^ularly rich in 
relics. In an old ilinint^-room standi tlie ancient family cuacli. 







KiofFSTRIAN STATUF OF OENKKAI. JACKSON. 
I rhit ,l.,tuf xl.tii.il ill Ihr Cfiiirr of oiif .</ Ihr oUesI ^irks in ll'ailiinflKH. ,.ilM l.,if,iyrlleSiitum. 
Si'Hlh <•/ Ihii Ivrk acroMi Ihf ilrrrt ii Ihr li'kilr II. mu; .lirr.lly off..'iilr. .in J Mcrik cf llu 
Squarf it Si. Jukn's Chur.h, which Ihf iCMide-hoohs .all " Thr Sl.ilr Char, h " l.r<.tuu/i/ltrH frrti- 
drni, havf .ilUHjeil Ihrrf. althmgh ySrv .'/ Ihfm .li.l „• .•»lr K.nii.'m,lly. UrU fj SI Johmt 
Ckur.h nml north of Ihr fark /> Ihr htinu of llrnry A.luin. .1 (r.inJstiH 0/ John Qmimj Adamt. 
On Iht norlhe.iil .orner i, Ihr .v,l l'..lly M.l,lit..h h.inieA 

The walls are huni^ with the fading portraits of the dcad-and-gone 
generations. Recent tourists speak of the interesting personal 
character of the relics, of the chairs, the mirrors and curtains, the 



THE HOUSEHOLD OF ANDREW JACKSON. 3^^ 

General's watch and seal ring, spectacles, snuff box, bead purse, 
Bible and hymn-book, his hat, a bead regalia presented by Gov- 
ernor Sam Houston, of the pair of candles taken from the hut of 
Lord Cornwallis at the surrender of Yorktown, and of the wall 
papers which have not been changed for the last half-century. 

The descendants of the old slaves still cluster upon the place 
and serve the family. It is a tradition there to love the old Presi- 
dent, the old General, the old master and grandfather. The whole 
place, the whole neighborhood, the whole region, breathe of affec- 
tion for him. Old Alfred probably represented the sentiment 
felt by all the slaves toward the General and his wife in the con- 
versation with a recent visitor, quoted here from a Nashville 
journal : 

" ' So you think Gen. Jackson was the greatest man that ever lived. Gen. Jackson didn't give 
you your liberty.' 

"' No, Gen. Jackson didn't give me my liberty.' 

"' \ ou had to wait for some good Republicans to do that for you.' 

"' I had jes' much liberty then ez I got now.' 

"'Oh, no; you had to get permission when you wanted to go anywhere.' 

No, I didn't. I could go whenever I got my work done. No man what 'tends to his fi<»ures 
can go an' leave it. If I war to go 'way from here now you'd all say I was a mighty no count 
nigger.'" 



Hsi*.:i 



